Pale Hope
by Namine3419
Summary: After the battle of the Burning Plans, Murtagh must return to Uru'baen and Galbatorix's wrath. However, in the tiny town of Furnost, he meets a young girl that could change his and all of Alagaesia's fate forever. MurtaghXOC
1. Return Trip

**Pale Hope**

**by Namine3419**

**Chapter One: Return Trip**

**Disclamier: I don't own Eragon or any of the Inheritance characters, but I do enjoy writing about them, lol!**

**The Burning Plains**

The endless emptiness of the Burning Plains seemed to spread out beneath him as he flew towards a jagged mountain top, the smell of blood and burning flesh assaulting his nostrils and making his stomach churn. As if to mock him, the sky grew darker, ominous, as if foreshadowing the tempest he was about to face. Without noticing it, the ground steadily grew closer and closer to his person. Dust and dried shrubbery blew up into his face, his eyes watering from the irritation. Dropping his helm, Murtagh slid off of Thorn's saddle, staring at the war-torn landscape. Most of "his" men were either licking their own wounds, caring for the poisoned, or sorting out the body parts of fallen comrades. The other side faired no better. His heart went out to Nasuada and the Varden as he bit his lower lip and shook his head; there were no victories in war, only pain and suffering.

A glint of red flashed by his right as Thorn tried to get his attention. Murtagh sighed and lowered his mental wall, the feeling of unescapable vunerablility caused his skin to crawl. Thorn growled irratibly, _Must you lock _me_ out?_

_Sorry; I'm still not used to, _Murtagh drew a tiny circle with his finger, _this._

Small billows of smoke rose from Thorn's nostrils as the dragon stared at him moodily, _we're in trouble, aren't we?_

_Yes, _Murtagh said with a slight smile, _we're in trouble. _Already he could feel the chains of his fate tightening around his neck, making it harder and harder to breathe. An overwhelming sensation of being trapped and backed into a corner caused Murtagh's breath to come in even shorter gasps. The scar on his back tingled for a moment, and he sensed a wave of concern emite from his dragon. Aprehending the upcoming pain, Murtagh quickly rose the walls of his mind and shielded Thorn from the burning agony. His back felt as though it had been split anew, the metalic taste of blood filling his mouth. He couldn't see the world around him but was painfully aware of the ground that was rushing up to meet his form. He felt the scaly hide of Thorn's tail catch his limp body across the chest as dust and smoke filled every hole in his head. He couldn't think but of teh mindless, merciless pain that racked his body.

It finally because to overwhelming for Murtagh to keep up his wall. He was on the brink of madness when Thorn wormed his way into his mind, stealing Murtagh from his body and holding him their until the pain resided. He could feel his rider resisting his hold on him, but Murtagh was to weak to fight effectively, as if he were a mere feather trying to tear down a fortress. _Damn it Thorn! Let me go, NOW!_

_Now, if I were to do that, _he said smuggly, _you'd just start shaking around on the ground in that disturbing way you do._

_I love you too . . ._ Grudgingly, Murtagh tapped into Thorn's eyes and saw for himself the pitiful and disgusting way his body twitched with every new wave of pain. He laughed bitterly, _and this is what Galbatorix finds so funny?_

_Sadists tend to be borderline insane._

_I think he's crossed that border already, friend._

_True._ Murtagh watched as his body calmed down, and felt himself slowly rejoin his body. His felt his fingers first, the tips of them numb and motionless, followed by the burning of his lungs from his apparent screaming. He prayed to himself that Thorn was the only one who had heard his cries, even though his "men" all knew of his prediciment. _That's a great strategy, _Murtagh thought bitterly, _leave half of your army in the hands of a cripple._

_A cripple with a dragon._

_You're not invited in this conversation!_

Thorn puffed smoke irratibly, _you know, talking to yourself is a sure sign of madness._

_So is hearing voices!_ Murtagh couldn't help but smile. He'd been smiling a lot more since Thorn was hatched, but they were short lived as guilt filled his heart for the magnifcent beast. If he'd of only waited for someone else to come along, Thorn wouldn't be enslaved as he was to a tyrannical madman who only cared for his own personal gain. That, above all else, convinced him that Galbatorix was nothing but evil. How could you shackle a beast that practically _glowed_ freedom? It was, in Murtagh's oppinion, a mortal sin to hinder Thorn's right to soar the skies and roam the lands whenever his heart desired. So, to the best of his ability, Murtagh would shield Thorn from any pain or worry that might befall him. Which is why--

_You're procrastinating. _

With a sigh, Murtagh mounted Thorn's back. Without waiting for him to be seated properly, Thorn took off, his wings still angled into his body as he dove nose first off the mountain top. Air whistled in Murtagh's ear as he held on for dear life. The dragon twisted and turned in a magnificent fashion; he was nothing but a red flash falling a death-defying speeds. _Pull up! _Murtagh screamed, _ damn it, Thorn, stop!_ True, he was having one of the best times in his life at this moment, but he knew as soon as Galbatorix penetrated his mind, he would find this tiny bit of enjoyment and make sure to replace it with endless hours of pain. However, Thorn was determined to keep going, and rushed over the men of Galbatorix's army with a deafening roar. The men roared back, their pain and sorrow seeming to melt away with every cry of hope. Murtagh turned red, then said, _show off._

_It's not showing off, _Thorn said, sternly, _these men are _yours_ to command Murtagh. Let them see you. Let them know that you share their pain. _An image of Eragon with his newly elvin features popped into Murtagh's mind, along with a hint of disgust from his dragon, _and let them know that _you_ are still human. _Smiling, Murtagh punched his left hand into the air, the gedwey ignasia reflecting the firey fields like a twisted mirror; and he roared back to his men.

**Jiet River**

Thorn landed swiftly, darting ahead of the countless lines of men. There they met with the rest of the troop, who looked up with still fresh fear from the winged beast that flew above them. They had never really been in battle with a dragon at their side, as Shuikan and the king never joined in the battles anymore. With a foul taste in his mouth Murtagh surmised that Galbatorix saw it fit to send pawns instead of himself to do his dirty work.

They landed next to the river's edge, Thorn taking long draghts of liquid into his mouth and swallowing with gusto. Sliding off of his back and wobbling slightly, Murtagh stretched his aching muscles and returned blood to his now sleeping legs. He sighed as he saw a messanger run from one of the main tents in the troop. He bowed and extended the parchment, saying, "A message, milord, from the king."

Murtagh noted the man was shaking, then said, "You didn't have to run all the way out here to get me. You could've called--"

"That's not proper, milo--!"

"And stop calling me that!" Agitated, he sighed and pushed back his brown hair, "Look, sorry, but that "my lord" thing really gets to me, alright? Just call me by my name."

"But milord . . ."

"It's an order!" He barked, then began to laugh, "Well, lets see what my poison shall be for today, shall we?" When the soldier didn't get his joke, Murtagh sighed and waved him away. The seal was of black ink with the Sigil of the House as it's imprint. He fingered the ridges and bumps of the wax with a nervous air, then opened the letter with his thumb.

The ink was red and sloppy, as if written down in a mad furry (which it most likely was):

_Murtagh,_

_ How dare you defy my orders, you baseborn cur! Do you know how _long_ it took me to assemble those men? Hmm? Do you know of the resources you just cast into the wind because you felt it _noble _or _honorable _to protect your so-called brother? BAH! Be forewarned, boy, you await a punishment far to great for words! You'll wish you'd never been born!_

He closed the letter and set it afire with a word from the ancient language. He smiled sadly, "to late for that." He frowned when he saw that the soldier didn't leave as he'd wanted, "yes?"

"Milo. . . Murtagh, sir, the men are wondering which route we will take to reach Uru'bean."

"We're to go to Melian, and then from there to Furnost. I refuse to go anywhere near Dras Leona." Even the name of the city caused him to feel dirty. That place was nothing but a stagnant scab on the map of Alagaesia, one that he thought would be better pulled off and scoured clean. He forced a smile as to try and ease the soldier's fear of him or Thorn, "Tell them we'll leave as soon as they are ready." The man nodded and ran quickly back to camp, as if Murtagh would shoot him with an arrow if he proved to slow. _Mindless twit . . ._

_How would you feel, _Thorn interupted, _if you were assigned to give a poisoned letter to a man that could order his companion to swallow him whole?_

_I don't care Thorn,_ he huffed moodily, _they should know by now I'm not my father._

_No, _he said carefully_, but you are his son._ Murtagh threw a rock at the dragon, missing intentionally, and stomped into the camp and went to sleep.


	2. Furnost's Host

** Pale Hope**

**by Namine3419**

**Chapter 2: Furnost's Host**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Eragon or any of its characters, blahdy blah blah. . .**

**Reviews: THANKIES SO MUCH!!! Please review more ifin' you don't mind, lol.**

**Warning, there is some, if slight, perverted humor in this chapter, so I'm sorry if I offend anyone.**

Melian had proven a nightmare to Murtagh and Thorn. In an attempt to spread more support for the Empire instead of for the Varden, and because the reports of Eragon's sladeslaying escapade, wild and imaginative stories had been spread about nonexistant victories from the new Rider and dragon. It made Murtagh sick.

The mindless sound of hoves plowing through the well-warn road gave him a slight reprive of the mess that had insued inside the tiny mountain town. Three women asked him what to name their children, young men came to him for advice on whom to marry, and the elderly of both genders came with pleas to end their aches and pains, all through which he kept to himself and kept walking. Thorn, on the other hand, was a completely different story. The dragon had been locked up inside the castle yards for so long, with only Murtagh and a few spars servants to keep him company, that the young hatchling practically threw himself into the hords of people. He allowed the men and women to touch him, even going so far as to let young children slide from the top of his head to the tip of his tail. Murtagh knew he was only having fun, but the scarade would only lead to unneeded and unwanted attention. He slowed his gate so he walked side by side his scaly friend, "You need to learn to control yourself."

_Are you scolding me? _Thorn tossed his head defiantly, _I was only giving those humans something to tell their offspring! You can't chastie me for that._ The dragon winked playfully and stuck out his reptilian tounge.

The act almost caused Murtagh to burst out laughing, but the other generals were watching (and reporting) everything he did. He turned his head quickly to hide a smile, then said with his mind, _you're going to get us into trouble, _little_ one._

The dragon shook himself, as if the name had been an annoying fly venturing up one of his nostrils, _little one?! I'm at least the size of one of your houses now!_

_Aye, but you'll always be little to me._ He smiled and tapped to dragon playfully before returning to the stony mask of Murtagh the Rider.

**Furnost**

As expected, Furnost was no different from Melian. The streets were far and wide due to emense space from the lack of people. The houses were tiny with thatch roofing, yet they were made out of the sode that the people mined from the local hills. It had the faint charm of a small town tucked away in the shadows of the bigger cities that surrounded it. The breeze, cooler thanks to some lake that Murtagh refused to pronounce (or even attempt in the danger that he might look foolish), sent a shiver down his spine as it danced around his head and crawled down his back. The men were already eyeing the local tavern when he turned and said, "Alright, listen up! We're only staying here for two days, afterwards we head straight to Uru'bean! Rest up and drink as much as you want, just don't harras the locals. Am I clear?" After recieving the confirming "salute" from the soldiers, he dissmissed them into the streets of the tiny town.

Thorn was setting a scaly foot inside the border when Murtagh reached out, _no, not here._

_But what if you need me?_ Worry lacing his words, _I can't save you if I'm on the outskirts of this god-forsaken hobble!_ Murtagh smiled but said no more, leaving a fuming Thorn.

With a contemptuous air, Murtagh searched the streets of the tiny village until something caught his eye. It was an old tavern, warn and beaten by the weather, sitting between two huts that seemed to dwarf in the building's massive size. It wasn't the length of the building that captured his attention, however, it was the beaten old sign that hung limply from its rusted hinges, singing the metalic song of rust and old age. Painted on the wooden plaque was a full moon, as pale as his gedwey ignasia, along with delicate text that said "Pale Moon Tavern". Unable to resist, Murtagh opened up the double doors to the massive building, the smell of rum and other alcohols causing his head to go cloudy.

The inside of the building looked like any ordinary tavern. The dim lighting gave it a foreboding feel as smoke from serveral different pipes flew through the air, twisting and turning into magnificent shapes until they finally faded away into the surrounding atmosphere. Happy drunks were either singing, fighting, or pursuing one of the many tavern maids, will the not so happy were busy brooding over their drinks as if the answers to their problems lay hidden in the depths of their cups. The sit made it easy for him to turn down the liquid, yet many examples of his father's rants gave him the growing suspicion that he too would do best by staying sober.

He went to sit by the counter when a young woman rushed by him, carrying three trays that were about to topple. She fought for as long as she could, but gravity bested her in this bout and sent the liquid flying. She screamed a warning, but Murtagh couldn't react thanks to a barstool that barred his way. A torrent of mulled beer flooded through his hair, soaking his shirt and pants, and leaving a brownish yellow puddle beneath his feet. Through their link, he could feel Thorn laughing at him.

The girl, horrified, quickly rushed over to him and started pulling off the trays and goblets that had remained on their target. Wipping the fluid from his face, she said nervously, "S-sorry about that, sir . . ." Then she saw the sigil on his tunic and froze. Murtagh thought that she'd died on her feet until she shrieked and flew to the floor, bowing, "My lord! Forgive me! My foolishness has costed you a very valuable tuni--"

"This is good beer."

"Wha . . . ?" She looked up, dumbstruck. _He's not going to hit me?_ She'd been punched earlier three times that day due to similar instances, yet here was the Rider, the _leader_ of said soldiers, licking wasted booze off of his gloves. Then she noticed he was laughing. Laughing at her.

Murtagh couldn't help but smile, _what else?_ He helped her off the floor, his voice light with amusement, "Do you need help with this, ah . . .?"

"E-Elaina, if it please my lord." She said, bowing her head.

"It does not," she looked up, horror-struck, and he quickly added, "please, ma'am, do not call me 'lord'." He gestured to the soldiers littering the hall, "I get enough of that formality from my own men." She began to smile, and it was Murtagh who froze this time. He felt his cheeks turning red and he adverted his gaze for a moment, only to have it return to fully inspect the girl. She was shorter than he was, and younger, with barely shoulder-length, hair that had a light chestnut color to it. Here eyes were a mix of browns, greens, blues, and yellows that seemed to shine out of a pale, heart-shaped face. He was about to say something more when he realized that words wouldn't come. _Damn it! Not now!_

Thorn decided now was as good a time as any to rescue his rider, from foe or humilation one. He roared with such verocity that it shook the entire village, including the bar. Elaina lost her balance from both the shake and fear. Her knees gave out and she found herself falling forward, only to be caught by strong arms. She looked up and blushed, _he has such pretty green eyes . . ._ "Oh!" She pushed away, brushing off her skirts, "Sorry, my lo--Murtagh. Um," she searched frantically for something to occupy her mind, "would you like to get another set of clothing?"

"Yes!" The sudden answer caused many to jump, then he lowered his gaze and said, "yes, please." Elaina smiled and began to lead him upstairs, unaware of Thorn's nasty words, _what are you thinking, fool? You know those feelings will only get you into more trouble!_

_I know, I know! I've got it under control._

_Liar._

_I am not!_ Murtagh screamed in his mind, his face contorted into an annoyed grimace.

_Really? Look down. I didn't think you kept camping gear in you pants._

Murtagh looked and blushed the whole way up the stairs, making sure to duck for cover whenever the girl looked back.

Pleased with annoying his Rider, Thorn began to look around for something to do. He was over with being angry with Murtagh; he could see why it would be unwise to start another uproar. Instead, the red dragon spent his time stalking birds in the air, making them think he were about to fry them to a crisp, then nosedive near the remaining soldiers' camp.

It also kept him from worrying about Murtagh; he knew more than anyone what awaited his friend with the returned to the castle. The last time he had refused an order, the Twins used some strange magic so powerful it left Murtagh unconcious for almost three days. Unbeknownst to him, Thorn had torched a nearby treetop in his subconcious anger. _Oh well, _he thought, _at least they're dead._

The Twins death at the hands of that Ronin, or Ronon, whatever his name was gave Thorn enough respect to justify his disloyalty towards Galbatorix, making it easier to defy his oath. However, as the days went by, he found it harder and harder to find tiny holes to which he could dive into to avoid his king's meaning. It did, however, make him feel intellegent whenever he or his Rider found a grammatrical error in their orders; a game if you will.

He decided to check in on Murtagh one more time, but rammed head first into his concrete wall. Annoyed, he decided not to find any holes or weak points, but to just drill into his phyci until he relented. It didn't take long. Murtagh snapped, _what now? Not satisfied with the level of humiliation I'm at now?_

_I didn't mean to make you feel bad. _Thorn said innocently, then asked, _are you better now?_

_You overgrown lizard . . ._

_Well? _

There was a long pause then Murtagh replied, _yes._

_Good, now stop this foolishness and hurry back to the camp_, then he added, not unkindly, _you're not only endangering yourself, but the girl aswell. What do you think Galbatorix would do to her if he knew you even had the slightest attraction?_ The cold horror that ran through their link was enough to convince Thorn that he understood, _I'll see you soon._

_Y-yeah. . ._


	3. A Burning Moon

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Three: A Burning Moon**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Eragon people...again...so yeah...**

**Reviewers: Thank you again for reviewing; it means alot. I shall continue to turn out chapters as fast as I can! This chapter is also shorter than my others, but that's just because I couldn't think of anything else that would fit into it.**

The smell of wood burning would be Murtagh's wake up call as he briskly dressed himself (in the new clothes Elaina had been so kind to give him) and rushed out of the hotel room. What he saw made him gasp; three of his men, drunk off their hides, were dancing around the Pale Moon Tavern with torches while throwing on whiskey to intice the flame. Shrieks of pain, fear, and sorrow eminated from all around, however the loudest were coming from inside the building. Without thinking, he ran down the cobble-stone walkway and burst into the burning building, searching for those trapped.

An elderly man was rushing around the floor, his once magestic beard now threatening to be the fuse that would set his whole person ablaze. "Adurna!" He screamed as liquid began to form in his palm. He shot the water as quickly as he could towards the old man, extinguishing the fire only moments before it torched his face. His strength began to wane, but he refused to show weakness to the captive people. He stared sternly at the man, "How many others are there?"

Still in shock, if from the fire or the magic Murtagh couldn't tell, the old man stammered, "T-the few wenches made it out but . . ." An ear-splitting shriek fell from upstairs as a beam crashed through the floor, barely missing the old man. He screamed and ran out of the burning building, not looking back.

_Murtagh!_ Thorn cried. An image of the dragon rushing through two closely built buildings rushed into Murtagh's mind. He sighed in annoyance and guilt due to the damage done to the houses. Thorn emitted embarrassment, _sorry, but one of the soldiers said you went mad and rushed into a burning building!_

_I'm not mad, and . . ._ The shriek came again, followed by rows of fitful coughs, _sorry Thorn, I'll talk to you soon!_

_Murtagh! _But it was to late, for Murtagh was already to busy dodging debris and flames to pay attention to his dragon's warnings.

Upstairs was a horrible site to behold. Antique furniture that took human artisans years to complete were now being devoured by the unforgiving flames, the curtains of an open window becoming gates that seemed to hold back the very pits of hell. The floor was extremely weak beneath his feet as Murtagh shuffled from room to room, looking for the disembodied voice. Thrice did beams double in his size fall through the floor, causing gigantic holes in his path. After searching four more rooms, Murtagh saw the faint outline of a body by the far end of the fifth room. It's limp body lay out of the opened window, as if it were ready to dive into the open air.

He was about to rush towards the form when flames erupted from the floor and surrounding walls, causing a horrible flash of heat to knock him off his feet. Murtagh's head rammed against the wall as he hit the far side. His vision went blurry and for a moment he thought the world became nothing but a dancing picture of reds and oranges. Murtagh's eyes threatened to shut, and once they did he knew they would never open again. Shaking his head, Murtagh pushed himself from the floor, heading back into the room.

The body was dangerously close to being burned. Flames that went far over Murtagh's head pranced around it as if daring him to rush in and snatch away their prize. Reaching for the ancient words, he quickly yelled, "skolir nosu fra brisingr!" Suddenly a path was cleared from his person to the other and he realized with a start that it was Elaina. She'd been hit in the head by a nearby beam, which explained why she wasn't moving, or at least that's what he hoped. Moving quickly, Murtagh rushed over, scooped the unconcious girl into his arms, and rushed down the stairs, aware that every step he took caused the floor to cave in.

Cold air rushed up to meet his face as he stepped outside, breathing in the fresh air. When he was sure that Elaina was no longer in his hands, Murtagh collapsed from exhaustion. . .

**Tudosten Lakeside**

Thorn paced axiously outside of the med tent, his nose covered in tiny bruises from where he'd stuck it inside when it didn't belong there (his head threatened to topple the tent). He didn't know what to feel; angry, worried, or proud. _Idiot Rider! _He fumed,_ he couldn't been killed!_ Then he smirked, _well, at least he saved that girl._ She was sitting on the edge of the camp, her feet dangling in the water. She'd told them that, since the pub was now burnt, she had no place to go. Thorn took the initiative of saying that the girl would be put in his and Murtagh's care for the time being. Of course, he had to run this by his Rider, but at the time it was either Thorn save the day or the girl be sold into slavery.

He walked up behind her and started picking at one of his clause. She turned and smiled, "Hello dragon."

_Aye, hello,_ then he caught himself,_ you don't smell of fear. Am I not frightening to you?_

She laughed, "Well, why should I be frightened of one who saved my life? That is," she feined a gasp, "you mean to eat me!"

_Please, I'd be better off at eating a rabbit then one as small as you._ The ground shook with his rumbling laugh, _where will you go from here, she-human?_

She was silent for the longest time, then said, "I don't know . . ."

Murtagh awoke to a med staring right at his face. "Ah!" He screamed, popping up out of his cot. The med looked shocked, but then realized that this was a natural response. He bowed politely and left the tent, leaving the Rider alone. Murtagh sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Soot and smoke had stained his clothing, along with his hair and face, but other than that he didn't seem to be harmed . . ._ The girl!_ He jumped up, wobbling slightly, then ran outside of the tent . . .

_Murtagh!_ Thorn yelled, gliding to his Rider, _are you well?_

_Well enough, and you?_

_I'm not the one who ran into a, _Thorn paused and eyed him, sarcasm layered in his eyes, _did you just ask a _dragon_ if they'd be alright in a fire?_

To tired to reply, Murtagh glanced over the beast at Elaina, who just sat there staring over the lake. The sun reflected off the watery surface to cause ripples of white light to dance and twist upon her face, the surrounding sunset causing her to glow. He could feel himself becoming flushed, so instead he looked to Thorn, who was eyeing him with amusement, _shut up._

_Did I say something?_

Murtagh kicked him, gently, and walked to the water's edge, sitting down. As he pulled his knees to his chest, he asked, "Are you alright?"

She pointed to the bandages on her forehead, above her left temple, "It's just a scratch. How about you?"

The concern in her eyes made him feel warm inside, but he quickly put on his mask and said, "I'll be fine, but we need to find out something to do with you."

"Can't I come with you? I could help you, if not in a big way than in a small one!" Despiration now replaced her worry as she continued to give reasons for her usefulness, "I could wash your clothes or cook for you! I could attend to your dragon if you taught me how . . ."

As she continued to go through her list, a jolt of fear lept into Murtagh's heart. _This is exactly like . . .!_ "No!" He said it so quickly and with such a painful air that it caused Elaina to recoil as if she'd be struck.

She quickly regained herself, however, and started to smile, "You're afraid I'll be hurt," she scowled, "I do not fear the king! Please, let me stay by your side!"

He knew what the servants would say; what everyone would say. He refused to be anymore like his father than he already was, let alone cause another woman to relive the horrors that his mother, Selena, had lived. He was about to voice his answer when Thorn said, _of course, little one, you may come. The female influence might be what the men need right now._

She bowed respectfully towards the scaly giant, "Thank you! Oh, thank you!" Forgetting herself, she hugged the giant muzzle of Thorn's nose, which only caused the dragon to laugh. She blushed slightly when she released the dragon, "sorry."

As she walked away, Murtagh turned and scowled at his dragon, _what do you think you're doing?!_

_Making sure you don't go insane,_ he said smugly, _and I'm not sorry because if I didn't defy your wishes you would've lost her forever._

_It's not that simple Thorn, _mental images of his childhood flashed into his mind. He lingered on the one that he remembered most; his mother's mourning face. _That,_ he said slowly_, is the fate that I would have her avoid._

_But Murtagh, aren't you the one that keeps saying that . . . _

_. . . I'm not my father?_ He laughed bitterly, _yeah, I know._

"skolir nosu fra brisingr!" - Shield us from fire!


	4. Uru'baen

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Four: Uru'baen**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Eragon characters and this is the last time I'm putting a disclaimer in here, lol.**

**Reviews: Dear, sweet reviews! Thank you so much for your comments, and thank you for keeping me on my toes about my grammer!! I shall continue to write as quickly (and as accurately as I can), and sorry it's taken me so long to update; I was at my dad's.**

**Just Ranting: Woot! Over 2000 words!**

The great city of Uru'baen could be seen from atop the hill that Murtagh was now standing. A cool breeze tossed his cloak and hood about, as if trying to push him in the other direction. Every fiber in his body tensed at the thought of what awaited him inside the monsterous castle that loomed in the back of the city, it's dark towers like outstretched fingers clawing at his very person. A shiver ran down his spine as he continued to stare over the distance, "Hiya!"

He bolted, startled at the sudden presence. Turning, Murtagh found himself staring back into those irresistable eyes. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he asked, "W-what are you doing here, Elaina?"

She shrugged, "Thorn said I should go and see Uru'baen before I actually _went_ inside," she stared down into the valley, "it's beautiful."

"Hmph," Murtagh turned his back on the imposing buildings, "then beauty really is only skin deep."

"It's not the city's fault that it's ruled by a mad king," Elaina said, her voice as serious as he'd ever heard her, "beauty can be found, if you look hard enough." She stared at him with knowing, solemn eyes, "Then again, it isn't my place to say." She smiled sweetly and left, heading back towards the camp.

Murtagh just stood, stunned. _Did I . . . did I just get scolded?_ He stomped after her, his face indignant and agitated. He grabbed her arm and twisted her around, "What would you know?" He said, keeping a cool tone of voice, "have you ever seen the cruelty that others can inflict on another being? Have you ever had a taste of human venom? The poison that stains the streets red and causes young babes to scream in the night?" He jabbed a finger towards the dark city, "_That_ is what awaits anyone who enters those borders; pain and misery."

"Well then," she said, smiling, "it's a good think I have my knight in shining armor to protect me, eh?" She flicked his nose and began to giggle.

Before he even realized it, he was following in her laughter. _What _is _this girl?_ He stopped himself then, then stared at the ground, "Why are you so kind to me? What is it that you want? Riches? Fame? I cannot give you these--"

She waved him off with her hand, "Please; I've been able to talk to a dragon, oh great Rider," she winked, "that is all the treasure I need." With that, she bowed her head and walked into a tent, followed by the hoots and whistles of surrounding soldiers.

Murtagh blushed then shouted, "The next one to whistle has dung clean up duty!" When he was sure silence had fallen, he returned to his own tent, slumping down into a chair and preparing himself for his impending "punishment".

**Uru'baen**

Upon Thorn's back (since he was ordered never to enter or exit the city unless in Thorn's saddle), Murtagh stared solemly at the towers to where his _master_ resided. Already he could feel the madman's wrath searing his skin, causing sweat to fall as he knew his blood was about to. Thorn, sensing his anxiety, tried to cheer up his rider, _maybe he's forgotten?_

_Yes, and pigs fly._

_Well, with the right words . . ._

_Shut up._ He knew the dragon only meant good, but at the moment his thoughts were rather preoccupied. Murtagh busied himself in finding a way to keep Elaina from Galbatorix's clutches, for once he found her in his mind, he would undoubtably inflict pain upon her to do pain to him. _If I could only get her somewhere unnoticed . . ._ He sighed and shook his head; ever since Saphira's egg had been stolen, every nook and cranny of the city had been thoroughly checked, guarded, or filled to avoid the same mistake. However, the king's own paranoia was what Murtagh believed to be his downfall; if he had no hole to hide in, then the rat could never escape the hawk, no matter how powerful the rat may be.

He left his men to return to their families or homes, Elaina and Thorn directly behind him. His stomach fluttered with anticipation, with the want to get it over with and to never begin in the first place. As if sensing his discomfort, Elaina reached out a hand and touched him gently on the shoulder, "What is it? Is something wrong?"

He did not look at her but said, "You must follow Thorn from here on." He quickened his pace, making sure that she would be unable to keep up. When he was sure that she was lost amongst the many twists and turns of the castle, he said to Thorn, _make sure to hide her somewhere safe,_ then he quickly added, _and you as well._

_I won't hide from that base-born son of a b---_

_Thorn!_

_Well, he is!_

Murtagh shook his head and smiled as he walked in a circle up to the tower room, the sound of angry pacing echoing down the hall . . .

Elaina, confused, scared, and infuriated all at once, walked blindly around the corridors and hallways of the formidable castle. She sighed, then said, "Is he afraid of me?" A low rumble from the dragon that walked beside her told her that she was being laughed at, something that seemed to happen a lot. She was about to round another corner when Thorn grabbed her by the tip of a tooth, pushing her in the other direction. Tugging as much as she dared on her blouse, she glared at him and said, "That's not funny! Let me go!"

_Not there, woman. _Thorn's voice was both grave and demanding, _that is a forbidden zone._

"Why?" She said this outloud, to which a few passing servants gave her suspicious looks.

_From now on, just think of what you want to say to me, and I'll be able to hear it, _he said, agitated, _but that is where the third dragon egg is._

_The third what?!_ She'd jumped back subconciously, bumping into another man. Scratching the back of her head, she turned and faced the man, "I'm sorry sir, I didn't see . . ." She froze as the form that stood before her was, in some semblances, what seemed like a man, but was horribly hunchbacked with a black hood over his face and a long black cloak to conceal his obviously mishapen body. The stench of decaying flesh was his cologne and he seemed to produce the very essence of fear. Thorn began to growl.

The manthing hissed back, the sound like scratching nails across stones, "Ssstupid beassst. You lossst usss a valuable assset!" Me grabbed Elaina by the shoulder, squeasing it with unhuman strength, "Maybe I ssshall take her asss compenssation?" Thorn lashed out, barely missing the demon. Elaina screamed as her shoulder was released, then ran to Thorn's side, clutching to his theigh. With a deafening roar, he sent the demon man away as Elaina slid to the floor, shaking.

"W-wha . . .?" She asked, tears threatening to fall from her face.

_Ra'zac, a very evil breed, _he turned to look at her, his deep yellow eyes two comforting pools that she dove into, _I won't let them touch you; not while you're near me and Murtagh wishes you safe._

_Murtagh . . ._ She clung to her knees and looked up, a feeling of utter dread blossoming in her breast, _where did you go?_

Murtagh didn't even have to open the door, let alone knock, before two freakishly pale hands launched themselves from the dark tower room and grabbed his throat. He struggled, trying to break their grip, but they clung to him as if he were fussed into their fingers. Air slowly left his lungs and his lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen. With a sudden jerk, he was flung into the room as if he were no more than a ragdoll, hitting the cold stone walls with a sickening _thump_. Murtagh's head was spinning as he barely made out the features of his assailant.

Looming before him was a ghostly pale man, tall and, in a frightening way, handsome. His hair upon his head had left him, save for that above his pointed ears, and a salt-and-pepper goatee was neatly trimmed around the circumference of his mouth, which was twisted into a sadistic smirk. A small glimmer of madness light up his eyes and he looked down upon Murtagh with nothing but hate and disgust. This, was Galbatorix.

Walking as if stalking some sort of prey, the mad king kept a cool grimace upon his Rider, "So, do you want to explain to me exactly what I said that implied that I _didn't_ want you to capture that worm of a brother of yours?" He was upon him now, reaching down and grabbing him by the collar, "Well?!"

Murtagh stared him straight in the eyes and smiled, "Maybe you should choose your words more carefully?" He really couldn't tell what Galbatorix's facial features were after that, due to the teeth-rattling blast he recieved after being rammed up against the wall. Stars danced around his eyes as he felt the tendril of magic reaching into his conciousness. He tried with fading strength to keep up his mental wall, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to ward it off. It was in vain, however, as he screamed so loud and with such pain that his throat couldn't handle the strain and it died within him.

He felt as if he stood naked infront of the man, his inner most thoughts exposed for him to see. He could feel his annoyance, and even slight amusement as Galbatorix went from one mental image to another. His rasping voice mocked, _so, you thought you could protect him?_ A picture of Eragon laying on the ground, his face and hands bloody, armor dented and dirtied popped into his head. A pang of guilt and fear leaped up at Murtagh, for Galbatorix now knew what he looked like and could try and scry him again. Galbatorix laughed, _please, if I didn't get it from your maggot-infested mind, then I would have taken it from that sad excuse of a dragon!_

Sweat fell in rapid falls as the strain of Galbatorix's search weared on in Murtagh's mind. He couldn't feel his legs anymore and his fingers had gone numb. His head felt as though a thousand nails were being hammered around its length. Any longer and he would fall into the voices again, the same voices that haunted any who dared use such dark magics.

He finally reached the place that Murtagh feared most; his memories of Elaina. He tried his best to make it seem as if she were nothing, but with a sick amusement Galbatorix tore into the flimsy barrier and exposed every last second of his time with the waitress. Pulling out of his mind, Galbatorix dropped Murtagh on the floor, kicked him mercilessly, and said, "So, you've found yourself a whore?" He laughed, "Hm, like father like son."

"My mother . . ." He spat out a gloub of blood, "my mother . . . was not . . . a whor. . ." But he couldn't finish, for all at once the penalty for his disobediance forced itself upon him. Every fiber, pore, bone, and marrow of his person felt as though it were being impaled by millions of tiny, white hot needles. His vision went from white to yellow and red, then finally to black. As he began to enter into unconciousness, he faintly heard Galbatorix saying, "And so the drama continues . . ."


	5. The Blood of Kings

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Five: The Blood of Kings**

**Reviewers: I'm sooooo sorry I've taken so long in updating, but I've sorta been sick..and in the hospital...but hey! At least I'm back at it, right? I'm so grateful for all of your reviews, they make me so happy! **

**HAPPY HOLIDAYS!**

**Warning: This will contain some cute stuff, so if you don't like that then skip it, lol. Also, this was probably the most fun I've had writing a chapter, so I hope you guys like it as much as I do.**

**Ranting...again: W00t! 2, 178 words!**

Thorn, Elaina asleep in the hollow between his shoulders, paced back and forth the entrance of Galbatorix's study, anxious since he'd seen the tyrant exit the tower, but not his Rider. His body had felt, if only for a moment, what seemed to be horrible burning almost an hour ago, but now, as he tried to contact Murtagh, there was only a cold darkness that enveloped his Rider's presence. The dragon continued to billow dark clouds of smoke out of his nervousness, never noticing the black dragon that flew above his head.

_Thump._

Thorn's heart-beat increased, and if dragons could sweat then he would've been doing so in bullets.

_Thump._

This time the beat was so loud that it caused his teeth to chatter. He felt Elaina pop up on his back.

_Thump._ The last beat, as the massive onix dragon landed in the garden a few yards from Thorn. He rested a drawn, dull red eye upon the ruby dragon and a pang of pity filled Thorn. What was it like to not be able to choose your Rider? It must be horrible.

Shruikan began to walk towards the much smaller dragon, an air of ancient wisdom surrounding the creature. He craned his neck, smelling Thorn momentarily, then spotted the girl on his back, _who is this one? _He asked, not unkindly.

Not wanting to upset his master, but not wanting to fail his Rider, Thorn quickly responded, _just a girl, master._

_You lie to me. She smells,_ his gigantic head loomed over Elaina as air from his nose tossed her hazelnut hair about, _familiar. Is this Murtagh's wench?_

_Wench?_ He had to stiffle a laugh before he could continue, _I see you've already talked to Galbatorix._

_Yes, I have._

_And my punishment?_

There was a long pause, then the old dragon said, _Galbatorix has no sense in honor, at least, not anymore. I see no punishment fit for following the orders of you Rider first and your liege lord second. However, _Shruikan eyed him with iron authority, _do not disobey him again; I cannot protect you a second time._

_Thank you master._

Shruikan shook his head back and forth, then eyed Elaina again, _get this young one to a room. Even a stable is better than your hide._ With that, he leaped into the sky, heading towards the biggest tower in the fortress to rest with his would-be master.

_Isn't he amazing?_ Thorn asked the girl on his back. He craned his head to look at her, only to see that her face had gone ghostly white and that she was clutching one of his neck spines as if she were about to fall from a cliff. He gave her a look that would be similar to raising ones eyebrow and asked, _what's wrong with you?_

"T-that . . ." She stammered, still clutching to the spine, "that was . . . was . . .!"

_Use your mind . . .! _

"I'm a little distracted at the moment! Sorry," she continued to scream, "but I thought I was going to be eaten!"

_Eaten?_ He laughed, _what would give you that idea?_

"Well," she twirled a piece of hair between two fingers, finally releasing her handhold, "he did smell my hair. And the why his eyes looked," she looked down, "they're as if staring into a white wall; unreadable."

_That's because . . ._ He was about to finish, but thought better of it and quickly changed the subject, _wait, why are you afraid of him? You didn't fear me._

She eyed him with contempt, "Don't you remember saving my life?" She smiled, "And besides, I've heard many stories of Galbatorix's black beast; none of which are for young children." She laughed when he shook himself, then gasped, which caused her to loose her balance for a moment and almost fall off of Thorn's back. However, the red dragon caught her on the base of his wing and gently let her slide to the ground.

He looked at her with concern, _are you alright? You didn't scrape yourself on my scales._ After she gave a confirming knod, he then exploded,_ what was that for?! You could've been hurt, seriously!_

"I . . ." She looked at the tower, "I remembered why we were here. Has he come out yet?"

There was a long pause, then, _no . . ._

Elaina took off, bursting through the wooden door as if it were nothing. She didn't notice that a piece of her blouse had been ripped by the shoulder, exposing her the skin on her right side. Thorn called out a warning, but she didn't pay attention. She was to busy running up stair after stair, paying no heed to the pains that her body were sending her, trying to slow her.

She kicked herself for deciding to take a nap when Thorn said it would be alright to wait outside of the door. The air had been so mild, with the fading oranges and yellows of the day began to fade into the magestic blues and purples of night, then eventually to black. The moon had been full, so they could see perfectly as the king exited the tower, however Murtagh had not accompanied him. Thorn had told her that this was normal, that he was probably reading scroll or book or something. Elaina knew it was a lie. She had heard something of a scream echoing down through the tower and into the courtyard, and the passing servants all had pale, sympathetic looks about their faces as they passed by.

The rythmatic sounds of her shoes clicking on the cold stone stairwell was enough to drive her mad, as if there was no end to this ancient tower. With dismay she rounded a corner to find nothing but stairs ahead of her, and the moonlight that shown through the tiny arrowslits was beginning to fade as the moon hid itself behind a cloud. Afraid she might trip in the darkness, she forced herself to stop.

_I didn't realize I was this tired._ She sank to the floor, her back against the cool stone wall. Her breath came in short gasps as her chest burned, sides ached, and feet bled. She then noticed her shirt and cursed, "That's not a very ladylike word to say." She screamed and kicked in the place that she knew all men were weak in. It was a direct hit.

It was a direct hit, and to her horror it was to the one she was looking for, "Murtagh!" She got up quickly, grabbing him before he fell down the neverending stairs. Frantically, she pulled his hair back to try and make out his face, "I'm so sorry! I didn't know who it was and this tower is kind of creepy and, and . . .!" Then she got mad and stomped her foot, "and you shouldn't have snuck up on me like that!"

He coughed a few more times, then snapped, "I didn't sneak up on you! You were breathing so hard that it was hard for _me_ to hear _myself_!" A wave of exhaustion consumed him and he swayed into her arms, accidentily knocking her up against the wall, as they hit it with an _oof_. He was about to push himself away when he froze, his face only inches from hers. He could feel the warmth of her breath going in and out of her mouth in short gasps. His heart felt warm as his senses took in every bit of her. She smelled of some sweet candy that he'd not eaten since he was a boy, she felt as soft as silk on his rough fingers. She seemed to glow some sort of pale light in the overpowering darkness, and the warmth from her body heated him up faster than any blanket. Then he felt her right shoulder, and the hole that was in her shirt. Fear jolted him out of his trance and he looked into her eyes, concerned, "What happned? Did someone hurt you?"

"What?" She asked, dreamily, then snapped out of her own world and realized what he was asking, "oh, no. I must have caught it on the door when I ran in here after you." She stiffened at her words, realizing what she had just confessed. She jerked out of his grasp, holding her arm and facing her back to him, "Thorn is worried about you; we should . . ." She froze when she felt cool fingers pressing against the skin of her back.

Murtagh, in the dim moonlight, saw a tiny tattoo in the hovel of her spine of a three-headed dragon marked in black ink. _I've seen this somewhere before . . ._"Where did you get this?" He asked, hoping her answer would clear up his mystery.

She shook as he ran his fingers across it, "I don't know, I've had it for as long as I can remember. And," she turned, smacking his hand from her body, "how dare you touch me like that!"

He smirked mischieviously, "You didn't seem to mind it when I had you up against the wall." She punched him and he laughed, "Come on, Thorn'll be angry if we don't hurry down." He noticed her hesitating, then he sighed and said, "Did I offend you? I'm sorry, I was just playing--"

"What happened to you?" Murtagh froze, his eyes fading and he escaped into himself. He turned, and began to walk down the stairs, Elaina following in a respectful silence.

**The King's Chambers**

With a deafening crash, Shruikan entered his master's chambers through the dragon entry in the ceiling. The room was made of black dragonglass and marble, twisted columns running down the length of a dimly lit walkway that led to a bed hidden behind black satin curtains. With tired steps, the dragon walked down its length, resting at the foot of the giantic bed, _master, I have returned._

_Shruikan! _Galbatorix hopped up from his slumber, and embraced his dragon. A smile, the smile of a disillusioned mad-man, spread across his drawn and ancient face, _I've missed you._

_And I you. _In truth, the dragon worried for his fake-rider. A fake bond they might have, but a bond none-the-less. He stared at Galbatorix with a gigantic red eye, seeing how young his mind still was even though his face was that of a grown man. He crawled into the bed with the Mad King, allowing him to curl up next to his stomach. Once he was settled, he asked, _what did you do to the other Rider._

_I did what I had to,_ he said coldly, _he needs to learn his place._

_And what makes it so that anyone is beneath us, young one?_

Galbatorix looked down, shamefaced, _I do what I have to do to make a better kingdom. _

_And you wish to run it in fear and hate?_ Shruikan asked, humming slightly to soothe the old man.

_If the people fear me out of what I do for them then so be-it. As long as they respect me, I could care less! _He then laughed, _did you meet Murtagh's whore? Pretty little thing, almost as pretty as Selena._ He paused for a moment, _I couldn't help but feeling as though I've seen her before, though. As if her face was from some far-off dream._

_She smelled familiar, _very_ familiar._ A mental image flashed into his mind and he sent it to Galbatorix through their "link".

The Mad King gasped, then clutched his fists so tight that they turned paler than they already were. _No_, he said, _it's not posible!_ In his mind, the image of the old king, Angrenost, flashed into his mind. The black haired king seemed to smirk down upon him in an all-knowing look, a gleam in that mix of color that were his eyes, his wife at his side. This was where the familiarity clicked; the girl looked exactly like her! In the old queen's hands was the a small boy, and anguish gripped what was left of Galbatorix's heart, "I forgot to kill the boy!"

_No, _Shruikan said, _you did not; Morzan did. Out of pity, or whatever was left of it in that black demon's heart, he spared the boy and left him to live in poverty._

_Apparently the brat has breeded!_ Galbatorix cursed, then smiled cruely, _well, maybe we shall have the son take up what the father left off._ He then turned to his side, falling into a dreamful sleep of his perfect world and all the lands and peoples that would cheer his name as he flew above them like a god.


	6. The ThreeHeaded Dragon

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter 5: The Dragon Has Three Heads**

**Reviewers: Thank you soooo much for still reading my story; I know I haven't been updating as much as I should but I've either been sick, playing on my Nintendo Wii, or unable to get to a keyboard, lol. Anywho, I hope you continue to read my story and I hope that you continue to review and enjoy!**

**Blah: This one's kinda short, sorry guys . . .**

**Castle Yard, Uru'baen**

The metalic song of clashing swords rang and echoed throughout the grounds as steal kissed steal. In a furry of blows, a young squire manuevered his tourney blade to the right, barely scraping his target's torso, only to have his backside met by the blunt side of the knight's own sword. The lad's face was a bright red, either from exhaustion or embarassement Murtagh didn't know. With a cry, the boy leaped from the ground, sword held in a jab as he sailed forward towards the seasoned knight.

It was over in a flash. With a final _chinch_ of the blunt blade upon steal armor, the boy hit the ground and the knight held his blade to the boy's throught, "Dead."

"I would've had you! You. . .!" He paused, catching his breath, "You cheated somehow, I know it!"

"Daren," Murtagh said, shaking his head, "if you would've kept your mind clear, things might have turned out better for you."

Daren, looking abashened, stared at his feet and kicked the dirt, "Murtagh, you're even more skilled than Sir Allister! Why won't you teach me swordplay?"

Sir Allister, sheathing his sword, walked behind the young man and placed a chain-mailed hand on his shoulder, "Because Murtagh has more pressing matters, do you not?" He smirked at him playfully, white whiskers stretching with the lining of his mouth, "You've always been distracted by the sounds of the sword."

He shook off the old man's hand, turned his back and said, "My duties can always wait." With a sad smile, he departed, heading towards the dragon pits . . .

**Library, Uru'baen**

Elaina was still recovering from the shock of the amount of books that this particular room held. The smile that had instantly appeared when Murtagh had taken her to this room had yet to disappear, as she filtered through row and column of then endless volumes. She considered herself very fortunate to have had an adoptive family that was willing to teach her how to learn. Well, it wasn't what one would call a "family", since it merely consisted of the tavern hostess, the other waitresses, and the old boozers.

Shera, the old woman who had found her, had raised her from a babe at the foot of her doorstep. She was a very striked woman when it came to collecting tabs, but other than that she was a warm-hearted old girl with a fire for life. She had taught Elaina everything, even though the girl had been rather shy in the beginning. Elaina allowed a small giggle to escape her lips as she thought back on old times. "Find anything to your liking?"

Dropping the book she was holding, Elaina turned quickly to meet cool, gray eyes similar to that of a hawk. The man had long, silver hair that met his forehead with a widow's peak between his eyes. A malicious smirk spread across his pale face, pearl-white teeth shining through his pink lips. Then her heart skipped a beat as she noticed the pointed ears on either side of the man's angled head, _he's an elf!_

Bowing, the elf said in a deep voice, "Good evening, my lady." He lightly lifted her limp hand and drew it to his lips, "I have been meaning to meet you. I am known as Daemon the Namekeeper, and you are?"

"Namekeeper?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, "pray tell, good sir, but if you are known as 'namekeeper' then shouldn't you already know my name?"

A hint of annoyance glinted in his eye and the corner of his mouth twitched, "Yes, well, a human such as yourself wouldn't have such knowledge," he sighed, "no, this is a lost art amongst your kind, so I forgive your ignorance." He scanned the room with distaste, "Yes, it is a pity I do not remember how to return to my homeland; I do so long for elvin tales."

Elaina, her voice full of scorn, said, "If you were banished from your own kind then I want nothing to do with you!" She glared at him, "Your eyes, they tell me who you are; you've done horrible things to people."

Daemon looked at her gently, lifting his hand to her face. His pale skin was icy cold, as if his touch were that of the dead, "Dear princess, I only do what I must for my king." As he removed his hand, a slight shiver ran up Elaina's spine. Daemon, reaching out snake-like arms, plucked a book from the shelves above her left. Tossing her the volume, he said, "I suggest you read that one," he smirked as he began to disappear into fog, "it's rather 'informing'."

She stared a moment longer, trying to analyze what had just occurred. Shaking her head, Elaina finally managed to look down at the leather-bound tome she held. It was an old book, the pages barely holding together, but what caught her eye was the embroidered in red and traced with gold lace was the three-headed dragon that rested upon her back.

**Dragon Yard, Uru'baen**

_I'm afraid._ Murtagh, sitting beneath Thorn's belly, both for shade and to hide from passing servants, looked up at his dragon with searching eyes. _I've got this horrible feeling, like . . . Like she's in danger._

_It is only natural to feel protective,_ Thorn said, nudging him gently, _it makes you human._

_No, it makes you sane._ He stood, brushing the dust from his pants. Looking up, he frowned at the looming tower that watched over the entire city, _her tattoo; it bothers me. I know I've seen it before, but I can't put my finger on it!_ He sighed in frustration, _I just wish I knew why it was bothering me. . ._

_Murtagh!_

A nail had driven into his mind, and he almost lost his balance. The Mad King's voice shattered all resistance Murtagh tried to erect, but it was no use. With reluctance, he answered, _yes, my lord?_

_Next time you block me I'll make sure not to stop due to physical danger, _he crooned,_ where is your whore?_

It was difficult to hold back his anger, but he knew if he made an outburst it would only endanger Elaina. Then he'd realized what he'd asked, _I do not know where my _whore_ is._

_Don't play with me boy!_ Pain shot down Murtagh's spine thanks to some unseen spell. When it subsided, a picture of Elaina's tatto flashed before his eyes, a pit of fear engulfing him. _So, _Galbatorix laughed, _it is true. _There was a long pause, then the king's voice rang back into his head, _kill the girl._

_No!_ He'd said it so quickly that Murtagh couldn't hide all of the emotion that one word held. _Please, _he dropped to his knees,_ she's done nothing wrong, sire! I'll gladly take any punishment on her behalf!_

_Her punishment, o Rider, is that of being the last living soul of the House of Angrenost! _Rage emitted from the old king, _she is the Blood of the Dragon! The Three Heads of Angrenost!_

Murtagh could feel Thorn's surprise through their link, but now that he'd heard it, Murtagh wasn't as affected. _Her mark, that was it . . .?!_ He shook his head, concentrating on his liege lord, _sire, please, she does not know of her birth. I could,_ he swallowed a lump in his throat, _I could keep watch over her; she'll remain quiet and out of your way._

_Do I have your word?_

_Yes, my lord._


	7. Schemes of a Madman

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Six: Schemes of a Madman**

**Reviewers: Hurray! Chapter six is up now, woot! Sorry it's taking me so long to update, but this one took me two days to write (I just hope it doesn't get boring). Yep, I made me a baddie elf, just 'cause I don't like elves. Stupid elves (runs from elf fanboys and girls). Anywho, thank you soooo sooo much for the reviews and I hope you like this chapter. Writing it made me really sad, so I hope it's not to much of a bummer.**

Thorn laid his head gently beside his Rider, humming softly to try and soothe the young human. His scales illuminated the ground in the fading twilight, specks of red light reflecting on Murtagh's pale skin. He sighed, puffs of smoke billowing from his nostrils into the air. He knew that after talking with Galbatorix it would be nearly impossible to communicate with his Rider until he had calmed down. Patiently, Thorn counted the blades of grass that billowed in the soft breeze, loosing himself in their endless numbers. _There are as many idiots in this world as there are blades of grass,_ he thought, setting a small patch on fire, _and they are all just as easy to wipe out._

_What is all that talk?_

_Murtagh?_ Thorn, slightly surprised but even more relieved, propped his head up higher so he was eye-level with him. His voice was layered with concern, _how are you?_

_I'll . . ._, he paused, looking at his hand. Thorn would have never told anyone, but at that moment he saw, if however faint, a slight mist over his Rider's eyes. Tears is what he'd heard humans call it; something they produce when they are under much emotional stress. Then it disappeared, and Murtagh smiled at him, _I'll be alright. But you're wrong, friend._

_Oh?_ He asked playfully. He gently nudged Murtagh's right arm, _and how am I in the wrong? Your kind do nothing to eachother but cause pain and more pain. Isn't there anything your race does besides waring and causing suffering?_

_Lo . . . no, nevermind, I won't say it. It's to corny._ He used Thorn's nose to hoist himself from the earth, to drained from both magic and emotion to support himself. Once erected, he looked towards the heavens and watched as the last bit of twilight melted into nightfall. Running a hand through his hair, he began to head towards the dinning halls, then ran back to his dragon and asked, _what would you like to eat?_

There was a low rumble and a rush of wind tossed Murtagh's hair around when the great beast stood. Yellow eyes glowed like a cat's in the night air as the dragon stared down at him from the height of a two-story building, _I will hunt outside the castle gates; maybe I'll take some of the king's cattle._ Murtagh was about to protest, but decided better of it. He waved his hands, grunted, and turned back to the castle's main interior.

**Dining Hall**

He was tired. Exhausted would be a more accurate word. Murtagh could hear the voices, footsteps, and other movements of the other people around him, but other than that he was in a daze. His eyes had dark circles underneath them, giving his already pale face an even more haunted look, his usually bright green eyes taking a dull forest green. He didn't even notice Elaina as she came walking down the hall. She was buried nose deep in a black, leather bound book, so she to was quite oblivious to his arrival. That is, until they ran into eachother with a resounding _crash_. Both fell to the floor, one on top of the other, Elaina laughing and Murtagh still trying to sort out what had just happened. The girl pushed herself up, still sitting on his legs, and said, "We really need to stop meeting like this."

"E-Elaina!" He felt life flow back into his body, starting with his cheeks, as they were undoubtably turning redder than Thorn's scales. He coughed and asked nervously, "What are you doing here?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Isn't it time to eat?" She then looked outside and gasped, "Oh my! I guess not; it's really dark out." Then she looked down to what her hand was touching and quickly jerked it away from his thigh. Blushing, she frantically began appologizing, saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to sit on you so long! Ah, your legs must be asleep . . ." She froze as she looked into his eyes. He was staring at her with such intensity, but of what emotion she couldn't read, "Murtagh?"

"Elaina," he paused, "what was your family like?"

She just smiled sweetly and said, "I don't remember my real family, but I don't think I need to; I had a great foster-mother."

_Good, well, not good but at least she doesn't know. _He sighed in relief, then realized she was still sitting on his legs, "Uuhhmm . . ."

"Oh!" She quickly got off, held out her hand and helped pull him up. She raised her head when he was standing over her, staring into his eyes. Then she looked away, afraid that he'd seen her blush, "W-well, are you going to get something to eat too?"

"Y-yeah," he mumbled, for some reason feeling very disappointed in himself.

**Throne Room**

Galbatorix, rubbing his temples between two ghastly long fingernails, looked up and demanded, "And why, my dear Daemon, have you returned to me without her real name?"

The elf rung his long shirt nervously, stammering every word, "W-well, sire, you see, s-she . . . I couldn't . . . um, _read . . ._"

Daemon jumped as the king slammed his fist down upon his ebony throne, eyes staring daggers towards the elf, "Can you not even accomplish that which you were born to do?" He threw a chalise that had been sitting near his chair, "Really, no wonder you cannot return to Ellesmera." He then proceeded to tap an annoyed finger against his onxy throne, a perpetual frown upon his brow. Galbatorix opened his mouth to say more, but then his twisted mouth curled into a blood-chilling grin, and he began to giggle hysterically.

The elf had no idea what had caused his master such glee, but he knew that it meant horrible news to whomever was in the king's thoughts. He began to inch away, hoping that the lurking shadows would hide him form his wrath. This attempt failed, however, since he felt invisible shackles wrap around his legs, causing him to loose his balance and go crashing down to the ground. Galbatorix loomed over him, an air of authority in his voice, "Bring her to me; the girl."

"Sire?" He asked the question with a calm voice, but deep inside Daemon was so realived that his master's glee wasn't caused by him.

"I think I know how to keep Murtagh in check." Galbatorix, still smiling with mad eyes, trotted towards the double, stone doors. As he opened them, the cry of stone scrapping across fellow stone pierced the elf's sensitive ears, making Daemon grind his teeth. The king was halfway out of the door when his pale, balding head popped back in, "Oh, and make sure she's dressed nicely; she is a princess."

**Castle Yard, Garden**

It was late in the morning, a cold wind washed over the forming dew covered grass, preparing them for a light frost. The sky was turning into a pinkish hue, and the whole place had a fresh, new smell that helped Murtagh awaken further. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Thorn had yet to come back. The dragon usually only took a few hours to hunt, become bored, then return to sleep beneath Murtagh's window until the next day. However, his scaly friend was nowhere to be seen, and he seemed to be to far away to contact. That, or someone was blocking their connection. He shivered as another cold blast tossed his hair about, causing his loose bedclothes to dance along with the currents. _Something's wrong . . ._

_Thump._ Murtagh looked up, relieved to see the shimmering red scales of his partner. The young dragon landed heavily, and he held his weight acwardly. As soon as his great eyes meet Murtagh's the beast turned his back to him, slumping to the ground. Murtagh ran to his side, placing a hand gently on Thorn's left foreleg. Worry now replaced relief when he saw that his friend was covered in arrow wounds. _Who did this to you?!_

Thorn laughed, thought the usually hearty rumbles were nothing but a weak quake, _I guess I got to close to another farmer's land. You can't really blame him; ouch. . .!_

_Sorry_, Murtagh removed his hand from one of the wounds, warm, bright red blood staining his fingers. He clenched his hand into a fist, _why didn't you contact me? Thorn . . .?!_ He couldn't scorn the dragon; to much had happened in the past few days and Thorn had been his only reprieve. Instead, he began to dig at that tiny place inside his head for that special place that would allow him to use magic. Galbatorix refused to explain more about it, but he knew it had something to do with his own physical strength, the ancient language, and will power, but Murtagh never really needed to voice to many of the words; he pretty much knew what he wanted to happen and it just sort of, did. His palm began to glow a slight red color, and soon he saw most of Thorn's wounds heal instantly.

Dropping to his knees, he asked, _how do you feel now?_

_Better, but you shouldn't have done that; the strain was to much._

_I've felt worse._ On wobbling legs, Murtagh pushed himself up from the ground and stabled himself on Thorn's side. His breathing was labored, but other than that he wasn't to worried. He laughed as he felt Thorn's eyes burn into him, _I'm fine, really._

_Alright, whatever._ Warm air battered Murtagh's face as the dragon sniffed the air, _Elaina's coming. What on earth is she doing up at this hour?_ Then his eyes popped wide open as a new yet familiar smell assulted his senses, _Daemon!_

"What?!" Murtagh spun wildly, his eyes showering his sight with spots. He didn't care, however, for he knew that Elaina would be no where near safe around that monster. He ran as fast as he could towards the area Thorn had shown him, merging his mind with the dragon's to highten his own senses. He rounded a corner and found himself staring at the main gate of the castle. There, standing in the shadows of the newly born dawn, stood Daemon, Elaina sleeping in his arms. Murtagh growled, his eyes afire with rage, "Unhand her!"

Murtagh began to run towards him, but before he even took two steps the elf placed a cruel hand around Elaina's neck, "One more," he sneered, "and this girl's breathing ends. You wouldn't want that now, would you?"

"Galbatorix promised!" Murtagh shouted, "He promised not to harm her!" He clutched his fists so hard that they began to bleed.

Daemon laughed, "And he won't, so long as you continue to be a good slave," he laughed mockingly, "_Skulblaka Shur'tugal_." He lifed his hand from Elaina's neck and began to stroke her cheek, "I've brought orders from his Majesty Galbatorix. You are to go directly and without detour to retrieve Eragon and his dragon. If you fail, or take any sort of _side quest_, then the girl will be punished," he smirked, showing a hint of white teeth, "punished."

"But I . . .!" Murtagh, defeated, let his head fall to his chest. When it rose again his face was emotionless, his eyes dull and lifeless as stone, "If you harm her, even one hair on her head . . .!"

"You'll do what?" He dropped Elaina onto the stone ground, leaving her to land mercilessly on the could ground. Murtagh howled in rage, beginning to run towards the elf for blood, but stopped instantly as the creature uttered incoherent words in the ancient language. Murtagh fell, the feeling in his legs disappearing. Daemon walked over to him, then kicked him savagely in the stomach, "Do not forget, Rider, that Galbatorix isn't the only one who knows your true name." He ground the heel of his boot into Murtagh's side, kicked him once more, then disappeared into the castle.

"Dammit . . ." Murtagh cursed. He began to crawl towards Elaina, each movement sending agony up his side. _Dammit!_

_Murtagh!_ Thorn rushed towards him, the air from his folding wings tossing the grass so violently that patches of dirt were now visible. With a loud crash the dragon rushed over to his Rider's side, gently nudging him in the side, _now who's the one that's hurt?_

_Your humor,_ Murtagh crooned, _isn't helping._

_You just have no sense of humor, or just refuse to laugh. _Thorn eyed him mockingly, _if you couldn't even stand up to Daemon, how do you expect to defeat Eragon?_

"You're actually excited, aren't you!?" Yelling aloud, Murtagh scowled and swiped out at Thorn's muzzle, "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

_What's wrong with you?!_ Thorn was growling now, his teeth bare, _ever since you've been given the order to take down that, _boy_, you've done nothing but cause yourself, _he drew closer to his face,_ and me endless trouble! Don't you think it would be a lot easier if you just got it over with?!_ He calmed down, slightly, then said, _look, I know who he is to you, but . . ._

_You don't know! You have no idea! You've been locked inside a stupid shell for who knows how many years, and for some reason, you decided to hatch for me!_ He didn't look at him any longer, but continued to crawl towards his target, _why don't you just leave?! You hold no oath to Galbatorix, and apparently I've caused you nothing but misery, so just go!_

_Is that really what you want?_ Murtagh didn't answer. Thorn paused for a long time, then lowered his head, _very well; I shall leave. _

As the sound of fading winds drifted on the wind, Murtagh felt a strange warmth on his face. Tears where falling, but he didn't notice them. Pain soon consumed his entire body, but it was deeper than just a physical pain. He looked at Elaina with clouded eyes, darkness creeping along the corners of his vision. With a final sigh, he allowed unconciousness to take him; the only comfort he could find.


	8. Wings of Destiny

**Pale Hope**

**by Namine3419**

**Chapter Eight: Wings of Destiny**

**Reviewers: YAY REVIEWS! WOOT! Lol, thank you soo much for reading my story; it brings me much joy. I really hope you guys like this chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it. I'm kinda happy about how it turned out too; the last one was rather sad. And yes, dummy me forgot that poor Thorn made some oaths too, but I fixed it. Well, you'll see anyway. Well, I hope you guys like this chapter and continue to reivew and enjoy!**

**Blahdy blah: I saw the Eragon movie, twice. I dunno, it wasn't like the book at all but it was still a good movie...for the budget. CURSE YOU PETER JACKSON AND YOUR MARVELOUS MOVIE MAKING SKILLS! NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD AGAIN!**

_Where am I?_ He felt as though he were floating, as if nothing in the world could weigh him down. There in that darkness, an eerie calm took over him, and he didn't really care that he couldn't remember his name or anything else. Just feeling as though this place were to consume him, that he could become a part of it, made him feel calm and at ease.

_Murtagh . . ._

That word, no, that name. That was his name. _Don't say it again, please . . ._ He wanted so badly to be nothing. Nothing was an entity that allowed you to just merely exist, not cause anyone pain or suffering, love or joy. Just nothing.

_Murtagh!_

The voice called again. This time he began to see images. It was of a man, maybe about eighteen, riding a gray warhorse. _That's me . . .?_ Yes, that was him; the face reminded him of his father's. He was riding with another boy, smaller than he, and asleep in his saddle. This boy had hair slightly lighter than his, but his skin was tanner and his face much more at ease. _Eragon. . . that's Eragon._ He then saw himself in a cave-like room, sitting on a small bed with a scroll on the nightstand. A dark woman with a beautiful, fair yet fierce face was laughing at something he'd said. She made him feel a strange warmth, but for some reason it made him feel empty. A name was tugging on the tips of his memory, then he heard the woman say, "Nasuada . . ."

"Murtagh!" A stern, strong voice had called his name. He could feel forceful shakes trying to rouse his sleeping person, but Murtagh refused to open his eyes. "Wake up boy! I know you're not unconcious anymore." This time the voice was stern, and a quick hit to Murtagh's forehead told him that Sir Allister was standing next to him.

Murtagh rose, yelping as a jab of pain erupted in his side. Wincing, he asked in a cracked voice, "Where am I?"

"You're in your room, under warm blankets and worrying me, Daren, and the young maid all to death." He sat down beside him, his silver armor clanking and groaning with rebellion. He sighed, his brow furrowed, "Thorn has disappeared."

A cold pit of fear made his stomach turn; he'd been halfway out of his mind and ordered the dragon away! _I'd forgotten his own oaths!_ He knew Thorn would always obey him before he even considered obeying Galbatorix, but that made no difference to the ancient magics. He cursed under his breath, wishing that he could contact the dragon. _I was so cruel, and he was just trying to help me . . ._ His head popped up as the morning's scene played before his eyes, "Elaina! Where . . .?"

"Right there, asleep on the chair." Sir Allister smiled warmly at her, "Sweethearted that one is; never left your side." He tapped his forehead, "About took my head off when I tried to get her to eat something. She might look fragile, but give that girl a sword and a few lessons, and she might even rival you." He started laughing, but stopped when he realized his joke did nothing to brighten Murtagh's mood. "Don't worry," he placed a hand gently on his shoulder, "he'll come back."

Murtagh sighed, "That's what I'm afraid of."

**Dras-Leona Territory**

_Stupid boy. . . I wonder if he's alright? No! He's stupid and I'm not going to forgive him, _Thorn looked back momentarily, _he was kicked pretty hard though . . . DAH!_ He blew away a flock of ducks, setting a few aflame in the process, to try and extinguish his anger. It had been three days since he'd flown off from Uru'baen, and not once had he had a moment without thoughts of his Rider dashing across his mind. He knew he could never leave Murtagh, but things would be so much better if the boy didn't _hate_ him. _Anyway, _Thorn sighed, _he might've cooled down by now. He wasn't in his right mind. . ._

A foul smell assulted his nostrils, and Thorn growled. He could see Helgrind ahead, its jagged peak mercilessly piercing the sky. A cold chill ran down his spine, causing his scales to itch; there was his destination. In the distance he could see the Ra'zac riding atop their parents, the Lethrblaka. Thorn never realized how scared he would be of them without Murtagh in his saddle. _This is rediculous; I'm twice their size!_ Straightening his wings, Thorn angled himself downward, flying towards the ominious peak.

**Helgrind**

Thorn's talons scrapped along the cold stone as he landed atop Helgrind. Dark clouds covered the fith and poverty of Dras-Leona, something the dragon didn't mind one bit. He growled as the Ra'zac joined him, shooting a fang-bared glare at one that attempted to get to close. The monster next to the stupid one went behind his Lethrblaka, retrieving a copper-haired girl from his saddle. She was unconcious, so her face was obscuered, but her smell seemed familiar. His heart fluttered when he remembered the scent, _she smells like Eragon!_

That gave him an idea; he could save his Rider from harm by using that girl as bait! Sure, he knew that this would probably endanger her life, but who was she compared to his Rider? He promptly walked over to the Ra'zac, pierced a fang into her shirt, and plucked her from the Ra'zac's grip. As he placed her limp form in his saddle, the Ra'zac hissed, "That'sss my meal!"

_Eat your brother there, if you're so hungry._ With that, Thorn leaped into the air, flying above the dark, blinding clouds.

**Uru'baen, Murtagh's Room**

She heard voices; two men were talking. That made her jump up, barely awake, and scream at the top of her lungs. Shera had always told her that screaming was her best weapon and that she should use it should she ever be in trouble. Elaina felt cold hands try to wrap around her, but she punched what she saw as a blurry head, then screamed some more. "What's wrong with you?!" As her eyes began to focus, she found herself looking at Murtagh, whose nose was bleeding.

Elaina raised an eyebrow, "What happened to you? Why's your nose bleeding?" She touched his face lightly, his cheeks were warm, "What are you doing out of bed?!" She dabbed some of the blood away with her sleeve, "You've got a fever."

"You don't remember . . .?" He sighed, "Nevermind; I'm fine so don't worry about the fever, but," he looked at her, a hint of fear in his eyes, "why were you with Daemon?"

She shook violently, "I don't know; he just sort of, grabbed me. I couldn't move, and the next thing I knew I was on the ground and you were unconcious." A tear ran down her face, "I thought you were dead."

"Elaina . . ."

"Ahem!" Sir Allister coughed into his hand, "I'll leave you two alone," he began to walk out the door when he said, "Murtagh, you be a good boy!"

"Allister!" His face was turning red again, something that seemed to happen whenever Elaina was around. He didn't care, however, because she was safe. Her laughing at him was like a sweet melody that soothed all his earthly pains, yet in the back of his mind he knew that it was his fault that she was condemned to such a fate. Murtagh continued to stare at her, all his love and admiration pouring from his eyes as the girl continued to laugh until she was breathless.

As she looked up, Elaina noticed that he'd been staring at her, "Murtaghmph?!" She was cut short as Murtagh placed a gentle hand below her chin and lifted her face to his and kissed her. She was so shocked at first she didn't react, but soon she opened her mouth to his. Elaina and Murtagh's tounges faught for dominance, but his won in the end as he tasted every corner of her mouth. She moaned, but then gasped and pulled away from him, shaking slightly.

Murtagh gaped at her, wide-eyed. _What have I done?_ His hands shaking, he stammered, "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. . ." She said nothing, but walked quietly out the door, leaving him alone and cold inside his room.

Elaina ran down the hallway, her mind reeling and tears flowing from her eyes. _Why do I feel this way?!_ She cursed at herself, _he's practically a prince! And I . . . I . . .!_ Her legs went numb and she sank to the floor, sobbing. An overwhelming feeling of sorrow consumed her very soul as she realized that she loved him; she loved him so dearly that it hurt. A new outburst of tears began to soak her sleves as she repeated over and over again, _it will never work! It will never work! It will never--_ Then she felt a cold hand on her brow, and looked up to find a very pale man staring down at her. He wore kingly clothing, and his eyes were cold and unforgiving. A silver circle rested upon his bald, rounded head and his mouth was curled into a smile, "Hello, my lady." He laughed, "I've been expecting you."

She was about to scream, but the man covered her mouth and lifted her off her feet. She faintly heard him say something in a language she didn't understand, but soon found herself fading away into darkness. _Murtagh . . ._

**Surda**

Thorn, very proud of himself for getting this far in so little time, landed gracefully outside the gates of the Surdian capital. He decided that it would be best not to roast the guards standing outside the city walls, since inside he knew Eragon and his dragon would be waiting. The girl on his back was shaking in fear, and she mouthed the words, "Help me," to the guards, but the shrank away from Thorn's massive form.

He roared as the smell of another dragon suddenly appeared. Soon afterward he spotted a majestic, blue beast soar out from behind the cobble-stone gates, her Rider atop his back. At the gate, a familiar man rushed towards him, a pitiful hammer in his left hand. He roared at him, eyes afire with mad rage, "You devil! Release Katrina!"

_What are you doing here, traitor!? _Saphira landed beside him, then growled suspiciously, _where is that coward of a Rider Murtagh? Did you decide that that craven was better suited to hide behind his master?_

_Don't you _dare_ talk about Murtagh that way!_ Thorn yelled, lashing out slightly. He quickly recoiled his head, however; if his plan were to work he needed their cooperation. He lowered himself to the ground and said, _tell your Rider to tell this girl that she can get off of my back now!_

_Why are you . . .?_

_Just do it!_

She relayed the message to Eragon, who, in a skeptical voice, said, "Katrina, it's alright; you can get down now."

In a copper-colored flash, the girl leaped from his back and rushed into the other man's arms, "Roran!"

"Katrina . . . oh, Katrina, I've never stopped thinking of you." Roran, after a moment of passionate reunions with Katrina, looked up and glared at Thorn, "Why is he doing this?"

_Tell your Rider, _he growled, _oh, nevermind; I'll do it myself!_ He angled his head so that he was face to face with Eragon. _You look nothing like your brother._

_I'll take that as a compliment._

_You shouldn't,_ Thorn sneered, _and you're going to help me._

"And why should I do that?!" Eragon screamed, "I owe you nothing!"

"He saved my life, Eragon." Katrina walked up to Thorn's side, shaking. Sighing, Thorn began to hum gently, letting her know she could pet him. Gingerly touching his leg, she said, "Please; I owe him my life."

"And what of Sloan? Why didn't you save him, O Noble Beast?" Eragon mocked. Saphira kept a currillion eye fixed on him.

Katrina's face darkened, "My father died . . . The Ra'zac . . . they . . ." She didn't finish, Roran quickly wrapping his arms around her.

"Eragon," he said, "this beast saved Katrina. If you do not help him," he put away his hammer, looking into Thorn's eyes, "then I will."

_I knew I liked this one,_ Thorn said, sniffing Roran's hair. _Anyone who kills those twins can't be all bad._

_I don't like this, _Saphira said, _this could be a trap._

Eragon sighed, _yes, it is. But I don't want Roran to leave with him. _He looked to Thorn, who was now looking back at him. Eragon, through clenched teeth, said, "Alright; we'll help you."

_Of course you will, _he taunted, _afterall, this could save your darling brother._


	9. Draumr Kopa

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Nine: Draumr Kopa**

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**Reviewers: Woot! I'm on a role! Lol, well, I hope you guys like this chapter; it doesn't have much Murtagh in it, but it is needed for the developing story. Well, I hope you enjoy reading it and please review!**

The Surdian sun rose above the outline of the powerful, intimedating peaks of the Beors as Eragon finished suiting Saphira for their journey. Thorn had mocked her for being such a coward that she must hide behind her armor all the time, but soon ate his words as bits of a shattered tourney sword pierced his sides yet she remained unharmed. She'd kept an arrogant air around him ever since.

The world was bright with clear skies and gentle breezes; the type of weather Thorn adored. He lifted his massive head into the air to smell the salty air of the oceanside country. Aberon was truely a beautiful place. The city walls were made of different colored marble in a cobble-stone pattern, hiding the white city beyond. The castle was a simple gray fortress with a four tower design that had a gate between each imposing edifice. They hadn't let Thorn behind those walls, but he could smell the sweet scent of peach trees blossoming in the courtyard; something that Galbatorix seemed to frown upon. The last time the castle had more plantlife than grass was when Murtagh's mother was alive. At least, that's what Murtagh had told him.

He stiffened as he heard the clanking footsteps of the Rider approaching. His stomach began to ache, as it always did, when he laid eyes on the half-human. _He looks like a baffon,_ cuffed Thorn, making sure Saphira had heard his words. She snapped at him angrily, then lowered herself so Eragon could sit atop her saddle. The wind tossed his light brown locks around, abscuring his facial features. Thorn couldn't tell if the boy was smiling or scowling at him. He shook his head, _what does it matter?_ He growled once, put most of his weight to his back legs, and began to lift himself into the air. . .

"Wait!"

Thorn cursed; Roran had rushed outside the gates, a bag in one hand and his hammer in the other. Eragon leaped down from his saddle, shaking his head, "No Roran, we've been through this. You can't come!"

"Since when did you ever hold authority over me, cousin?" He looked over to Thorn, "I owe him a great deal of debt, and I will not allow _you_ to repay it for me."

Eragon frowned, sympathy in his brown eyes, "I know how you must feel . . ."

"Do you now? You really think you do?" Thorn laughed; he'd heard an arguement like this before. Roran scanned his body, making the dragon uncomfortable. There was something about his eyes that made his skin crawl, as if the man had been to the pits of hell and back. He cocked a bushy eyebrow, "Your Rider is still in Uru'baen, correct?"

_Yes, but what's it to you . . ._ Then Thorn realized where he was getting at, _oh no! No, no, no, no, no! You're not coming!_

_Why not?_ Saphira idly cleaned her talons, _it's not as if your taking us into a deathtrap or anything. I mean, you _are_ such a trustworth dragon._

_What is your problem with me?_ Thorn glared at her, smoke billowing from his mouth, _do you think we _wanted _to fight you? I mean come on! You're a girl!_

_What did you say?!_

"Enough!" Eragon's voice was stern and full of authority, and for a minute Thorn thought he had returned to Murtagh. The elf-boy sighed and sagged his shoulders, "Roran, you know how dangerous this is going to be?"

"I've faced worse." A cocky smile cracked his haunted face.

"Fine; you can come."

_I hope you've the fasted steed in Alagaesia, _Thorn said defiantly. Who was this man to think that he could ride him? Then he remembered the tortured face of his Rider as the ancient magic that binded them punished him for their disobedience. With a defeated sigh, Thorn lowered himself and said, _fine, you may ride me. But only until we reach where we need to be, got it?_

Roran knodded, lifting himself into the saddle. He smirked as he held onto the leather handholds, "This feels . . ."

"Right?" Eragon laughed, holding on as Saphira launched them into the air. Soon they were nothing but a blue speck, almost imposible to see in the clear morning sky.

Thorn, ready to launch, growled and said, _hold on tight!_ He leaped, the sound of Roran's screams lost in the wistling of the winds.

**Uru'baen**

Her head was throbbing as Elaina awoke inside a pearl white room beneath an opaque canopy that shared the color of the room, save the golden lining of the curtains and pullers. Her head had been resting on golden cushions as soft as silk, filled with downy goose feathers, and her covers were knitting of the finest work. A pattern of a three-headed dragon danced above a golden field, a rose in one mouth, a shield in another, and a sword in the last. She ran her fingers across the fabric, then gasped as she realized her own clothing had changed. She was robbed in a plain, yet still stunning white gown that flowed to the ground like water. The neck was square cut, lined by a gold trim. A grim laugh escaped her as she admired how much time it must have taken to make everything match.

Her head still slightly fuzzy, Elaina arose from her bed and began to examine the room further. A gigantic oak door stood to her left; no doubt the exit. She rushed to it, pulling on the doorknobs frantically, but only to retreat in vain; she was locked in. _Maybe I can pick the lock?_ Elaina searched the room until she saw a small vanity resting in the corner to the far right. She quickly walked to it, rummaging through its many cabinets and cubbyholes. She cursed when she found nothing but a hairbrush and a few ribbons; no hairpins would help her here.

She sank to the soft cushion of the vanity, bitting her lowerlip in thought. Elaina turned the mirror upside down; her reflection scared her for some reason, as if it were staring back at her. _That's stupid,_ she told herself as she flipped back the mirror. "Ah!" She sprang back, clutching her heart. On the mirror was the face of another woman. The image stared back at her with cool, green eyes, long locks of light brown hair tumbling down her shoulders. She seemed so sad, so scared, yet something about her face told Elaina that she had much courage. "Who are you?" Elaina whispered, touching the frame.

_You are the one who will save him . . ._

_Wha . . .? _Elaina gaped at the mirror, drowing in the woman's eyes. Then it hit her, why she couldn't look away from them, _you . . . You're Murtagh's . . .!_

_Yes . . ._ It was the voice of a sorrow striken wraith, echoing in Elaina's heart and mind, _I used. . . to be . . ._

_Pardon me, ma'am, _she pushed her hair back behind her ears, _but what do you mean, "save him"?_

The woman smiled a sad smile, then a blinding light surrounded the room, causing Elaina to shriek. When she opened her eyes again, the room had taken a paler hue, yet she remained in full color. And she wasn't alone. Sitting on her bed was the same woman, though slightly younger, smiling as she craddled something in her arms. She was singing a song that Elaina couldn't understand. Walking closer, Elaina realized that it was the same woman from the mirror, though she was alive in this reality, rocking her babe back and forth to sleep.

Her heart raced as she realized who the infant was. "Murtagh . . .!"

"Yes, you are correct." The woman from the mirror appeared beside her, though this time she wore a red veil that covered most of her face. She sighed, a longing note in her voice, "Before he carried the pains he does now," a tear ran down her face, "what have I done?"

Elaina placed a hand on her shoulder, "It isn't your fault . . ."

Then the woman changed. Her face became translucent, every vein and bloodvessel visible to the naked eye. Her eyes sank into her skull as bloody tears fell from her face, "I could have taken him with me!" She moaned, clawing at her face, "he didn't have to stay! But I was selfish! I knew, I KNEW!" She began to shriek in such a high pitch that Elaina thought her ears would burst. She covered them, cowering away from this devil. "Do you fear me aswell child?" The demon crooned, a mad smile playing across her lips, "You would not be the only one! My own son despises me! And with every right!" She fell to the ground, "I abandoned him to the wolves!"

Elaina, gathering all her courage, leaped out and wrapped her arms around the woman. "It's alright," she stroked the woman's head, "it's alright. You did what you had to do. No one blames you for it!" She closed her eyes, hot tears streaming down her cheeks, "Because of what you did, Eragon lived away from such evils! I know Murtagh would never hold a grudge for that!"

"No," the woman began to calm down, shaking slightly. As she did, the scenary changed into a part of the palace she'd never seen before. It was some sort of den, a fireplace against gray, stone walls. Red velvet chairs lined the walls and an oaken table sat in the center. A small boy of about two sat in the corner, playing with a toy soldier as another man ran a whetstone across a red blade. The woman walked over to the small boy, placing a boney, pale hand atop his dark brow, "No, he wouldn't. But my husband, Morzan . . ." She began to shake with anewed sobs, "Oh, how could he?"

"How could he what . . .?" Elaina stopped as the sounds of the racking whetstone stopped. Her eyes traveled over to the man that resembled Murtagh and her heart grew cold. He held such an evil air that it made every fiber of her being go cold. _So this is Morzan?_

A cruel smirk lightened his features as he turned to the boy and asked, "Murtagh, where is your mother?"

The boy seemed to be surprised, almost happy, that the man had talked to him. He shook his head, "Mommy said it was a secret."

"Oh really?" He leaned forward, the blade taking on an evil glow in his hand, "And you don't want to tell daddy because it'll ruin your mommy's secret?"

He knodded excitedly; Murtagh thought this was all a game. Pushing himself up on wobbly legs, the boy ran to his father with his doll held up high, "Daddy," he began, "one day, I'm going to become just like you!"

A sick amusement danced across the old Rider's face, "Oh really?"

"Uh huh!"

He placed a gloved hand upon his son's head, ruffling the hair playfully, "Well then son, do you want to play a game?" Murtagh didn't even have to say yes, his yelp of excitment was more than enough. A feeling of dread filled Elaina as she watched this scene unfold. Morzan pointed towards the far end of the hall, "Alright then, lets see how fast you are. I want you to take off running down that hallway, alright?" Murtagh knodded and began to run, but Morzan grasped his shoulder quickly, "Wait! Promise you won't look behind you?"

Murtagh looked at his father quizically, but knodded and began to run. When he was halfway down the hall, the howl of Zar'roc's blade flying through the air caused Elaina to scream. She ran infront of the blade, only to have it pass through her as if she were a ghost. The sickening sound of blood splattering the floor, of metal tearing into flesh, was the melody that played along with the young boy's wails. Elaina fell to the floor, feeling as if she were going to puke. Morzan stalked up to his son, sneering down at the broken boy, "You'll never be like me, boy. I would've dodged that blow." He then mercilessly removed the blade from his son's back and stalked into the dark . . .

. . .Elaina awoke, her face crusty from tears, inside the white room. She felt sick being inside of here, as if fate was playing some cruel joke on her. _I am not Selena, _she thought, _and Murtagh is _not_ Morzan!_ She attacked the door, scratching and pulling with all her might to try and break free. However, after an hour of this she began to give up hope, sinking to the floor with the door as her backrest. Elaina sighed, defeated, and rested her head in her hands. As she drifted to sleep, the image of the horror-struck boy burned in her retinas, his cries echoing in her ears.

**Belatona**

This was the third time they've had to stop due to Roran's airsickness. Thorn was growing more and more annoyed, but at least the man had the decency to remember which way the wind was blowing when he blew chunks. He lay by the edge of Leona Lake, admiring the crystal blue waters of the ancient landmark. It was such a peaceful feature compared to Helgrind, who's shadow could be seen from where they camped.

He turned his head to see Eragon scanning the horizon. He sighed, looking down, "How do I know I can trust you?"

_Would you like to see him?_

"What?" Eragon cocked an eyebrow, "You mean scry him, right?" He laughed bitterly, "I've been trying to do that for months--"

_So you do worry about him. _Thorn laughed, _well, you didn't have enough strength to get past Galbatorix's magic. But maybe with two dragons . . ._

_Are you implying, _Saphira inturupted, _that I allow you inside of Eragon's head? You must be joking!_

_Saphira, _he glanced at her, smiling, _if this is to work, we should begin to trust him._

_You just want to see if this will work._

_So?_ Eragon smiled, then addressed Thorn, _alright; let's try it. However, _he scowled, _if I detect even the slightest bit of treachery . . .!_

_Yes, yes, _Thorn began to lend him his strength, _you needn't remind me, Rider._

Roran went wide-eyed as he saw his cousin _glowing_. Eragon had so much magical power inside of him that his entire body had turned into a blue light, his features barely recognizable. He walked to a tiny area of water cut off from the rest of the lake and said, "Draumr kopa!" The water swirled into a black cloud, and for a few minutes remained as such, until the figure of a man began to develop. Eragon's heart raced as he saw Murtagh take shape. Fear and worry began to overwhelm him, from his own emotions as much as Thorn's, when the saw him writhing on the ground, screaming. "What's wrong with him?!" Eragon screamed, clutching the side of the puddle, as if he could fall in and rescue his brother from this agony that had taken him.

Thorn was shaking in rage, _that is what you'll be saving him from; Galbatorix's curse. _

Saphira walked next to Thorn, placing her head underneath his own, _I know why he's in pain; he will live through this if we succeed._

_What does she mean, _Eragon asked, the image fading from his lost concentration, _why is he like that?_

_Murtagh . . ._ Thorn's voice sounded as though he were about to weep, _Murtagh takes the pain for _all_ disobediences; even my own._

Saphira licked his cheek, _we will help you._

There was a long pause, then, _thank you. _


	10. Reunion

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Ten: Reunion**

**Reviewers: Hurray reviewers! Thank you for still reading my story; it means alot to me. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've been sick again so it's taken me awhile to get enough strength to get to a computer. Well, enough about that! I hope you have fun reading this chapter and please review at the end of it!**

**Blah: Um, if you're interested, I've drawn a few pictures of Elaina and soon I'll have some of Murtagh scanned too, so if you want to see them, just tell me and I'll e-mail them to you. This is also the longest chapter I've ever written in my FanFiction history! I'm so proud! It's probably full of mistakes thought...**

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The taste of bile was thick on his tounge when Murtagh awoke the next morning. The cold stone floor chilled his face as he opened hazy eyes to the new day. The sound of rustling servants and birds outside the windows were amplified as his ear lay pressed against the chilling floor, as if an army of hammers were pounding his head. His arms shaking, he pushed himself from the floor and scanned exactly where he was. It was a tiny halway separate from the main rooms of the castle; a lone door loomed in the darkness of the unlit hallway. _Why am I here?_ His head was fuzzy and he couldn't grasp the memories that he needed. _Maybe I'll remember if I walk a little farther, _he shrugged and started walking forward, the scar on his back still tingling from his recent episode.

As a child, Murtagh had learned to deal with the pain of his scar; something he was quite proud of. Soon he could completely ignore the minor attacks, and the more major ones would only be detectable by a flinch in his features. That is, until he had to swear all those blasted oaths in the ancient language. As if Morzan knew what would befall his son, the scar was the center of the magic's plague. He felt more sympathetic for Eragon's wound after every attack that befell him, even though it made him laugh that his brother shared the same wound. _No, not anymore . . ._

The scene of their first actual battle played out before him. Eragon lay on the ground, helpless, as he continued to vomit out the horrible truth that he wasn't the only spawn of Morzan. Murtagh wasn't feeling like himself that day, probably due to a poisoned drink of water, when he faced his little brother. Murtagh gritted his teeth as he remembered Eragon sneer, "I don't have a scar anymore. . ." He didn't know why, but that had hurt Murtagh. It was funny what could be used as a mental knife to drive into a man's heart.

Endless hours seemed to pass by as Murtagh drifted on the hypnotic melody of his boots padding on the hard floor. The column was getting darker; the day was almost over. With a frustrated sigh he was about to turn, then through a catch in the light he saw a staircase only a few feet away. He knew he should turn back, but his curiosity was knawing at him like a rabid dog. Quickening his pace, Murtagh rushed up the stairs; he had to hurry or else all his light would be extinguished.

**White Room, Uru'baen Castle**

More than a little annoyed, Elaina was lightly banging the back of her head against the door, hoping that whoever was standing watch of her cell was getting as annoyed as she was. Her stomach spoke out in protest at her lack of meals for the day, and she was beginning to get rather thirsty. It scared her slightly that no one had come to give her any provisions, but Murtagh had told her this was a cold place, _why should a prisoner get the luxury of food?_ She stopped banging her head; there was the echo of rushed footsteps beyond the door. . .

**Staircase, Uru'baen Castle**

_What was that?_ At first Murtagh thought it was the echoes of his own footsteps that was setting the beat to his explorations, but as he lowered his pace two separate beats began to ring in the hallway. As he approached the top of the stairs, he found himself in a plain, white hallway with a single oaken door to his left. The beats had stopped. He cursed himself for not bringing Zar'roc with him, taking cautious steps towards the door. Murtagh leaned an ear up against the door; nothing happened, "Hello?" He bounced back, holding his ear, as the amplified bang on the other side caused his ear to ring. There was a muffled voice calling out, but the door was to thick to make out who it belonged to, "Hang on," he said, putting a hand on the doorknob, "I'll get you out."

Searching for the right words, Murtagh moved the mechanism inside the lock to the open position and gently pushed the door open. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the brightness of the new room. It was plain white, even the floor, with little to no furniture and a tiny window on the far side. The only disturbance in the repeating color scheme was the gold trim to the canopy of the kingsized bed in the center of the room. He took a step in but tripped over something as he went in. A tiny hand tried to slow his fall, but the armstrength of the person just wasn't enough to hold his weight; he hit the ground face first. Holding his bleeding nose, he turned and saw Elaina sitting next to him, still stunned from his trip. She shook her head, "Are you alright?"

He sat up, shrugging, "What are you doing in here, and," an eyebrow rose, "why are you in different clothes?"

She smiled nervously, "Well, um," the door creeked as wind threatened to clothes it again, "I don't really know."

Murtagh got to his feet, helping Elaina out of the floor. _This isn't good, something's wrong here._ He didn't want to worry her, but being locked in a hidden room for almost a day can't be good for one's nerves. He smiled, "Well, we won't find any answers here, so let's get out of here." She smiled but seemed to be thinking something else. He followed her eyes to a small vanity in a corner of the room. Curious, he walked slowly to it, Elaina's tiny footsteps tapping behind his own. It was nothing special; just a regular vanity. It was white and gold to match the room, but there was something about it that triggered in Murtagh's mind. He ran a finger across the dusty surface, "I know this," he spun around, looking at the room in a new light, "I know all of this."

Elaina frowned, her face hidden behind her face, "I think this room is. . .used to be your mother's."

Memories from long ago began to rush past his eyes. He saw a brunette woman sitting at the tiny vanity, brushing her hair and singing a soothing song. He was sitting on the bed, his arms wrapped around his favorite toy soldier as he hummed along with his mother's tune. He remembered being frightened of a thunderstorm and rushing up the stairs to his mother's side. He'd tripped on the stairs, giving himself a scar. His father had ran out of the room then. What Murtagh had thought was worry was nothing more than drunken confusion as the man picked him up and carried him to the infirmary, his leg staining the stairs as he walked. Murtagh pulled himself out of this trance and shivered, "How did you know that? I didn't even remember this place."

"Because," she pointed to the mirror, "your mother told me it was."

He looked at the mirror himself, but couldn't see what she saw. All he saw was a reflection of his father with different eyes, and anger made his eyes alight with rage. He scowled, flipping the pane to the other side, "Let's get out of here; you've been alone for to long." He went to grab her hand when she jerked away and shook her head, "What's wrong?" Then he remembered the previous day, "I'm not going to do anything. I wasn't thinking straight that da--"

"You don't see her?" She interupted, frantic, "You really can't see her?!"

Fear blossomed in his breast as he saw her shake and shrill at the mirror, "Elaina?" He gently put both hands on her shoulders, "Elaina, look at me!" Her eyes were glazed as she looked past him, wide-eyed at the mirror. _I've got to get her out of here._ He gently lifted her from the ground, despite her desparate kicks and punches, and began to carry her out of the room. She clawed her way to his top shoulder, her head next to his looking backwards. Tears were in her eyes, "I'm getting you out of here, now."

"I saw her, I swear!" She cried, "I saw that day, oh, that horrible day . . .!" She began to sob uncontrollably.

Murtagh started to run out of the room, sure that once this horrible place was out of her sight she would return to her normal, warm, smiling self. It seemed as though the room was expanding to keep them inside longer, like some sort of twisted beast trying to eat them up. He quickened his pace, the door seeming to only get farther and farther away. Elaina continued to cry, clawing at his back until his shoulders bled. Finally reaching the hallway, he kicked the door shut and fell to his knees, craddling Elaina as she shook. Stroking his hair, he kept repeating, "It's alright, you're safe now."

"I saw it," she said quietly, he head buried in his chest, "I saw it . . ."

_What could she have seen that would cause her so much grief?_ Then he felt her fingers running from his right shoulder down to his left hip and froze. He pulled her away from himself, "You . . . how did you . . .?" He couldn't finish his sentence because in his mind it made no sense. A chill ran down his spine and felt as though the room was staring holes into his back. Forcing all his questions to the back of his head, he stood from the floor and carried Elaina down the stairs, holding her closer than he'd ever held anyone else before.

**Uru'baen Fields**

_Murtagh . . ._ A cold chill shook Thorn's scales as the soared over the yellow-green fields of Uru'aen. The surrounding farms had given up any hope of growing vegetables due to poor soil, turning to raising farm animals instead. Cows grazed slowly on the stalky, dry grass as goats stumbled over their own hooves to get away from the two flying dragons. He was tempted to set the whole field on fire, but the last time he'd visited these fields he became riddled with arrows, and that was only because of a cow.

A stray eye glanced over to the shimmering blue dragon to his right, and Thorn lost his train of thought. With a sudden drop in altitude and a yell from Roran, Thorn remembered what he was doing and stared straight. He heard Saphira hum, then she swooped past him, gliding on a zypher. He stared after her until he realized that he should be leading, _Wait! I should go first!_

_Why?_

Thorn thought that was the dumbest question he'd ever heard, _Do you not remember where we are going?_ Roran raised a queasy head and looked at Eragon, _if you go into that castle head first the only thing that'll meet you is half an army of archers and spearmen. And even if you get past _that, _there's still Galbatorix and Shruikan._

_Well, fly faster, _Saphira teased, swooping closer. Eragon eyed her suspiciously, then shook his head and continued to stare ahead.

The city loomed in the hazy distance as the sky began to fade into a clear, starry night. The wind rustled the dry grass below and birds of all kinds flew as fast as the could away from the intruders in their home. Several clouds obscured their path, and upon exiting they were all covered in a dewy wetness that gave them a slight chill. Roran stared at the city longingly, yelling to Eragon, "Is that the place?"

"Yes," even though he was yelling his voice sounded distant, "that's the place."

_You're not scared, are you?_ Thorn teased, dipping low to land on a nearby hill. Eragon remained silent. _Look, _Thorn said, not unkindly, _I know you're scared; I can feel it. I promise you that Galbatorix will not know you're here._

_How? _Saphira craned her neck behind her and stared at Eragon, _my Rider is terrified, _she said to Thorn, _but he's determined to help you. If you betray us to the king, I won't hesitate to tear you to shreds._

_Listen, we're landing here. _Thorn began to descend, slowly so as to be easy on Roran's stomach. They were five miles from Uru'baen, the glow of the cities laterns causing it to light up in an eerie, foreboding pulse. A soft crunch of Thorn's talons on the grass gave Roran his que to slide off of his hide. He stumbled to the ground, hugging it almost as tightly as he had Katrina upon her return. He barely lifted his eyes to Eragon as he landed, "I've been over mountains, through vast fields, and even went through a gigantic whirlpool, but I've _never_ experienced anything like that. How do you do it?"

Eragon chuckled, "For your first time that was pretty impressive," he looked slightly abashined, "it took me a few trial runs before Saphira and I were truely one."

Saphira looked up from the two men, resting saphire eyes on Thorn, _what now?_

_Now, _he said while he jumped back into the air, _I go get the target._ Within a few wing beats Thorn was out of their sights.

**Murtagh's Room, Uru'baen Castle**

He sat up in his bed, the soft silken sheets running off his bare shoulders. Murtagh stared out the window, eyes wide, _Thorn?!_

There was a long pause, and for a moment Murtagh thought he'd only been dreaming it. Then, rushing through his brain as though a waterfall had somehow cascaded into his ears, he heard Thorn shout, _Murtagh!_

_It _is _you! _Murtagh jumped out of bed, racing to an open window. The cold night chilled his bare chest, so he looked for a bedshirt or something loose to put on. He found a simple white button-up shirt and slipped it on, _where have you been?! I mean, _he lowered his tone, _I'm sorry. I wasn't myself when I said those things._

Forgiveness eminated from the dragon, _it's alright; I shouldn't have left you. Is everything alright? You mind feels, _Thorn paused as he searched for the word, _heavy._

Murtagh rubbed his exhausted eyes, _things have, happened. Anyway, _his voice brightened, _where did you go? And where are you now; I really wish to see you._

_I'm landing in the garden right now, outside the tourney yard. _Murtagh gave a short goodbye then rushed out the door, making sure to walk lightly past Elaina's room.

The stone floor was cold on his bare feet as Murtagh raced towards the garden. His heart fluttered like a young boy getting ready to ride his first horse. _He's alright, _he chirpped to himself, _he's really alright. _Ever since he was a young boy, Murtagh had always had a tremendous fear of loosing things that he held dear. First it was his mother from her illness. Sometimes this caused him to hate Eragon, since he'd figured she'd died of exhaution due to childbirth, then fleeing from god-knows-where and try to see him again. Then there was Tornac, his horse. Murtagh's caretaker often said if he didn't obey Galbatorix then he would kill the tiny pony right infront of him. Regret filled his heart as he wondered what the Varden did to that magnificent horse. Tornac, his servant and probably only true friend besides Thorn, was the last thing he chose to get to close to. Of course, that was taken from him too.

Sneaking past two of the posted guards, Murtagh rushed into the lush, green gardens that surrounded the west-side of the castle. There, in between two willow trees, sat Thorn, his head resting on the ground. Like a small boy Murtagh yelped in happiness as he ran towards the beast, throwing his arms around his gigantic head when finally he reached him. Thorn hummed contently, _I missed you too._

_Never again, _Murtagh repeated, tears streaming down his face, _never leave me again. You can hit me, bite me, burn me; anything! Just don't _ever_ listen to me if I tell you to leave._

_You might not want to say that yet._ His voice was nervous, like a criminal's about to confess to a crime.

Murtagh backed off quickly, _what?_

_Jump on my back. I've got some people I want you to see._

_Thorn . . .?_

_Just get on!_ Thorn sat as the familiar weight of his rider filled his saddle. He then leaned back on his haunches, looked up into the sky, and took off as fast as he could, humming as he heard Murtagh laugh for the first time in days.

Murtagh scrunched his eyes against the wind, staring straight ahead of them. He could make out a tiny fire, but other than that he still saw no people. "Thorn, I don't see any--" he stopped and stared in slack-jaw amazement. There, only two miles ahead, was camped the unmistakable form of Saphira and her Rider, Eragon. Of course, Eragon was only a tiny dot, but on the otherside was another speck that he didn't recognize. Then again, he really didn't want to, and began to pound on Thorn's sides, _you tricky lizard! _He roared, _turn around right now! I will _not_ go to him! You know what I'll have to do if I'm around him!_

Thorn didn't respond, only chuckle slightly and straighten out towards the ground, readying himself to land. They cut through the air like a knife through butter, causing Murtagh to close his eyes completely. When he reopened them, he was in the middle of three different pairs of eyes. Murtagh felt himself turning red, either from embarrassment or rage he couldn't tell yet, but he knew one thing; his words had stopped working. Eragon stared back at him with shielded eyes and the man on the other side just crossed his arms and continued to judge him. Saphira snarled slightly; it was nice to know at least one of them had the dignity to show their true thoughts. _Say something!_ Thorn urges.

His mouth was dry as paper, his throught feeling as though it were full of sand, "Hi . . ."


	11. A Family Legacy

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Eleven: A Family Legacy**

**Reviewers: Thank you again for the wonderful reviews! Sorry to keep you waiting, but we were updating to Vista and it sorta erased all my other files... Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and I can't wait for all your wonderful reviews!**

**Blah: I'm such a nerd. I'm going to by the special edition of _Eldest_ just so I can have that extra chapter...yeah.****  
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There was nothing but utter silence, the only noise was of the wind howling above them, causing the dry blades of grass to russel like paper. The sky was crystal clear, letting the light of the full moon light up the awkward reunion. Murtagh swallowed a lump in his throat, aware of his hands shaking. Saphira shifted her weight, and Eragon looked to his feet. Roran was the second one to speak, "So, you're my cousin, eh?"

A grim smile broke his nervous features, "Yes," Murtagh laughed, "I guess I am."

"You must take after your father," Roran said, looking at Eragon. He cocked his head, his eyes darting back and forth between the two brothers, "So, which one of you is the oldest?"

"Would you stop!" Eragon cried, his face disfigured by a horrible grimace, "This is bad enough as it is without you making snide remarks!"

"I was just trying to lighten the mood!" Roran stomped towards the smaller of the men, "Maybe if you had the courage to say something to him, I wouldn't have to keep babbling like an idiot!" He glared at Thorn, "Stop stalling and tell us your plan."

_There's no need to get huffy at me!_ Thorn shouted back, snarling. He almost knocked Murtagh out of his saddle as he reared back, _look, it's not my fault if these two are to stupid to make ammends!_

"Hey!" Cried Murtagh and Eragon, then they looked away from eachother, scowling. Running his fingers through his hair, Murtagh grumbled, "So, what's this about a plan?"

Saphira inched closer, keeping a catious eye on the other Rider. She knew what he was capable of; holding down a dragon _and_ her Rider was not a simple task. Especially at the same time. She lowered her head, becoming eye-level with Murtagh, _Thorn has an idea of how to rescue you from Galbatorix._

"Oh he did?" He began to dig his heels into Thorn's side, a little bit harder than need be, "And why wasn't I informed of this?"

_You were to busy flirting to notice anything! _Thorn bucked, causing Murtagh to loose his grip and fall to the ground. Thorn flicked his tounge, then turned to Saphira, _Alright, now to my plan. You may want to get comfortable; I don't want any interruptions. _He eyed Eragon playfully, _Especially from this little one._

An indignant frown crossed Eragon's features, if only for a moment, and Murtagh had to stiffle a laugh. Roran shoved his younger cousin playfully, "He knows you well, I see."

"No," he replied, "only his Rider's memories." He walked to Saphira's side and lowered himself to the ground, leaning up against her warm under-belly. He looked up and smiled, "Alright, dragon, tell us what to do."

_Good. Now, I know this isn't going to be simple; even with the combined strength of you two, _he paused and looked at the brothers. _I think we may need a third, if not a fourth dragon for this to work._

"And how," Roran interrupted, "are we going to achieve that? I thought there were only two of you, save Galbatorix's monster, and I highly doubt that he'd be interested."

_Are you so blind, fool?_ Thorn growled, his face only inches from Roran's, _have you not noticed how comfortable you are around my kind? How easy it was for you to ride me, even though you've never been on a dragon before?_ Roran stared at him with the blank eyes of ignorance. Thorn roared in aggrivation.

Murtagh touched his side, calming him, "What my inpacient friend is trying to tell you," he had a dangerous smirk on his face, his eyes alight, "is that you, Roran, are the third Dragon Rider." He laughed, "Well, it must be in our blood!"

"That isn't something to be taken so lightly," Eragon added somberly. He rubbed his eyes, "Even more of my kin are in danger now."

"Since when did you even start considering me, 'your kin'?" Murtagh stormed towards Eragon, his fists clenched, "The look on your face told me all I needed to know about how you felt about that! Don't you even _dare_ think that I'm related to you, because I surely don't want to think of you as a brother!" He turned on Thorn next, "And you! You of all people should know that this is a bad idea!" He started to pace around him in a circle, "What if this doesn't work? Did you think of that?"

_Yes, now,_ he nudged his Rider into a sitting position, _if you'll let me continue. I think if we get Roran to the palace, or have someone inside take the last dragon egg out, then we can have three dragons instead of only two. Then, just maybe, if we fuse all our powers inside of Murtagh, he'll be strong enough to break the spell!_

There was a long pause, and Thorn began to feel as though their eyes were burning holes into his hide. Somewhere far off a cricket began to sing. Roran started laughing, doubling over, "That is your great plan?!" Tears began to form in his eyes, "How are you going to pull that off? If we go into that castle, we'll not be finding dragon eggs, no, but quick and painful deaths!"

"This does sound rather fishy," Eragon added, keeping his smirk hidden. Saphira nudged him to hush.

Murtagh sighed, patting his friend on the side, "It was a nice effort, Thorn, but--"

_No!_ Thorn cried, _this _will_ work! I know it! I just . . ._ He sighed, lowering his head, _I just thought that maybe your teacher would have a solution to this._

"My teacher?" Eragon stood, his face in utter shock, "How do you know about him?"

_Well, _Thorn said slowly, _someone had to teach you all those things. _He laughed slightly, _and besides, you just admitted you had one._

Eragon's ears started to turn red, and Saphira jumped in to save him, _I do not think that either of our masters can aid you in this plight. I'm sorry Thorn, _she lowered her head, sad blue eyes staring back at him, _but I don't think we can help you._

No one talked for the longest time. Thorn rested his head on the ground, defeated, and Roran began to cook a small stew of random vegetables and animals they were lucky enough to find in the desolate grassland. Eragon was drawing circles in the dirt next to him, not really paying attention to much else but his tiny ovals. A few stray cows loomed over to their right, their distant mooing becoming a light lamnent of the impending fight that would soon begin.

Murtagh sighed, his back turned from the other two. He felt his hands beginning to go numb, and Thorn popped his head up worriedly. The oath's magic was already taking affect, and soon Murtagh would hardly be able to stand. Then, out of nowhere, he began to laugh. He laughed so hard that it startled the rest of the tiny group. "It's funny," he said bitterly, "it's so god damned funny I think I'm going to go insane."

"Murtagh . . ." Eragon walked over to him, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder.

As soon as his fingers touched, Murtagh began to fall into a fit of spasms, his back afire with new pain. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he felt himself falling to the ground. As he writhed, he could faintly feel Eragon and Roran trying to substain him, but to no avail. His thrashings were to harsh, so violent that when he jerked a sharp pain from the joint would fire us his spine, adding to the constant pain of his back.

Then the voices came. All the thousands of voices, screaming at him; demanding an answer to why he wasn't fullfilling his duty to his lord. Many were shrieks and wails, whereas others were distinct voices of his past. He heard Tornac's, low and gently, begging him to forget about any loyalty or friendship he might have shared with Eragon, and just take him to the king. Then he heard the rasping, rageful voice of his father. He was laughing at him, calling him a failer and that he would never become a true Rider. Lastly, he heard a sweet, clear voice, but it was distorted and hard to hear, as if from a great distance. Soon nothing else occupied his mind; he needed to get to this voice.

Murtagh's world went black, and soon he could see a faint, glowing figure infront of him. It was the shape of a woman garbed in white. She turned slowly, only her lips visible. She smiled, then said, "Murtagh . . ."

**Uru'baen Palace**

Elaina shivered, her eyes slowly opening to the darkness of her room. Winking twice, she sat up, holding the covers around her shoulders. _A dream, _she thought, _it was only a dream. _In her sleep she'd witnessed Murtagh racing to the garden, greeting Thorn for the first time in days. They flew off into a clearing not far from the castle and met with two other men. Needless to say there was much tension between the two parties, and Elaina felt quite sorry for Murtagh and his awkward position. They talked about a curse for a while, then all seemed to grow quiet. Then, out of nowhere, Murtagh began to laugh and suddenly looked as though he had been hacked in the back with a longsword.

She shook her head, slipped her feet out of the bed, and began to walk out of her room. She knew this was ridiculous, of course, but that dream had planted uncertainty in her mind that she couldn't shake. _He'll be there, _she reasured herself, walking down the hallway, _that was just a stupid dream._

She reached the oaken door of Murtagh's room, withdrawing her hand from it's side; she didn't want to wake him by knocking. Carefully, she cracked the door open and peered inside. A silver ribbon of moonlight cascaded into the room through an open window, red drapes dancing on the evening breeze. The wooden floorboard creaked with every footfall she made, causing her to wince. As she drew closer to the bed, her heart began to thump in her ears until she couldn't make out anyother sound.

Elaina gasped, touching the bedside in disbelief. "He's not here!" She said, panic rising in her breast, "Why isn't he here?!" She stepped back, almost tripping over a lone boot. She held her hand to her heart, _it's alright, _she told herself, _he's probably in the washroom or just stepped out of a walk._

Clutching her shirt, Elaina dashed out of the room, hurring towards the garden. It took her awhile to find it, for she'd only glimpsed it in her dreams. She ran down seemingly endless corridors, taking rights and lefts around the gigantic fortress until she knew she was utterly lost within the great stone walls. Finally, she leaned up against a wall, a gigantic black door closing off her path.

After a few moments she jumped away from her resting place. For some reason it had burned her back. She catiously laid a hand on the brick that had been on her back, but it was cool to the touch. Another pulse of heat eminated from her back, this time centering around her tattoo. She shivered as the unfamiliar sensation ran up her spine. An overwhelming urge to open those two black doors suddenly overpowered her, and she felt her feet carrying her towards the gigantic opening. With every inch that she drew closer, the farther and farther away her conciousness flew from her. The only thing on her mind was what was behind those two doors.

They opened to the sound of scratching stone against stone, a dim red light flooding the hallway beyond. Elaina stepped in, awestruck at the sight she beheld. There, on a pedistal made of onyx, rested a beautiful emerald stone. Something in her heart told her that this was nothing near a stone, but the remaining dragon egg. Her tattoo was on fire now, and a pale light began to surround her body. She reached out a pale hand, slowly touching the surface of the egg. . .

**Outskirts, Uru'baen**

"What's happening to him?!" Eragon placed a cool rag upon Murtagh's brow, trying to give him a slight comfort. He'd been writhing on the ground for well over an hour.

Roran was busy holding him down to respond. He had the other man's arms pinned, for both their safty and his own, when he noticed the his right palm was glowing, "Eragon," he asked, slightly afraid, "what is that?"

His eyes widened as he grasped Roran's shoulder, "Run!"

They leaped just in time. A blinding flash of bright green light exploded from Murtagh's hand. Smoke, or rather steam, began to cover up their campsite, obscuring their view. Thorn rushed in, his thoughts to muddled and worried to make coherent language. Saphira soon joined him in the mist. She cried out, _Eragon! Come here, quickly!_

Eragon leaped from the ground, rushing into the tiny cloud. He soon found the two dragons, hoveling over Murtagh's body. He had on eye open and was smiling weakly, "Well," he said, his voice a faint gasp, "look what I have. . ."

Eragon gasped, then rushed to his brother's side. There, in his bleeding palm, was the third dragon egg.


	12. Blood of the Dragon

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Twelve: Blood of the Dragon**

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**Reviewers: You're all so nice! You guys made my day with all your wonderful reviews! Thank you so much! Anywho, I hope you all like this chapter; it starts off with Elaina but Murtagh _does_ appear in this chapter, lol. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as you have to others, and I can't wait for your marvelous reviews. (I believe I'm getting a swelled head, lol. Oh, and sorry about any spelling or grammar errors that may occur in my story; I do this in WordPad because FanFiction doesn't accept MicrosoftWord.)**

It was dark; the room cold and silent. Chills ran up her spine as Elaina slowly rose from the stone floor. Her arms were weak, and her palm smoked slightly, but other than that she seemed alright. Then she looked up and yelped; the dragon egg that once rested peacefully on the pedistal had disappeared. _What happened. . .? _She held herself, backing away slowly from the empty onyx piece. Every step sent an echoing click down through the corridor, each one louder than the other. A foreboding air loomed over her head, and Elaina began to turn towards the door when she noticed a torch burn out, dimming the already darkened room.

A series of _whompsh, whompsh, whompsh_ passed by her as the remaining torches began to go out in single file. Now she stood in complete darkness, unable to tell how close she was to the gigantic doorway or how far she was from escaping. _This is silly, _she told herself, shaking her head and frowning, _it's just the wind. _Looking around, however, she found that there were no windows in the room. She sighed, clenched her fists, and began to walk towards what she hoped was the exit.

A cold laugh, amplified by the emptiness of the room, shook her down to her core. Elaina froze, unsure if she should continue. Then, beside her right foot, a tiny flame of blue sparked to life, followed soon by another straight across from the first. One after the other, a small road of blue flame ignited across the shadowed floor, casting a pale blue light upon Elaina's face. She grabbed her fist to stop shaking, and bite her lower lip. She knew this was a trap, but she was certain that was where the door rested. Elaina continued walking, fear growing slowly in her bossom.

The laugh echoed again, this time louder, more foul than the previous chorus. It never died either. The continuous song of the cold phantom haunted every step Elaina planted on the ground, as if each footfall produced the horrid noise. Covering her ears, Elaina screamed, "Stop it! Please, stop it!" The voice only grew stronger, more ominous. Scowling, Elaina threw her arms down and bolted towards the door, determined to out run this demonic voice.

She ran for what seemed like an eternity, the voice still following closely behind, when she came to a skidding hault. She'd finally reached the doors, only to find them bolted shut. Elaina pushed and pulled with all her might to open the two black doors, but they would not give way; she was trapped. Her heart skipped a beat as she heard the tap of a footstep grace across the floor. Another tap, then another, and another. Soon the tapping became like a downpour of rain, a malestorm heading directly towards Elaina. She tensened, mimicing the stance she'd seen some of the young boys take while practicing combat in the yard.

Then it stopped. The last echo floated off into the air, leaving an uneasy silence. Elaina gulped, sweat beading on her forehead. _Where are you?_ As if reading her thoughts, a single boot emerged from the pale shadows, followed quickly by a leg, torso, shoulders, and finally a head. The blue flames cast a deathly glow on the pale elf as Daemon stepped into view. He wore a dangerous grin.

"Stay away from me," Elaina said, subconciously stepping closer to the door. Daemon gave a quick giggle, then began to advance. Elaina grimaced, "I'm warning you--"

"Amazing," Daemon fixed cruel gray eyes on hers, "simply amazing. Who knew that the Blood of the Dragon held such power."

"What are you talking about?" She was only inches from the door now, Daemon coming closer and closer; in a few moments she would have no place to run.

The elf looked disappointed, almost hurt, "My dear, did you not finish the book I gave you?" He rubbed his temples between his thumb and forefinger, "Oh my, what a disappointment. I guess I'll have to be the one to bear the news to you, dear princess."

Daemon was now only inches away from her body. Elaina swiped out her hand, trying to distract the elf in any means possible. She wasn't quick enough, no human ever is, to plant her blow. He grabbed her skinny wrist and wrung it around, twisting her arm cruely. The act forced her to bend her body closer to the elf's, trapping her in his grip. She struggled, tried to kick his legs, anything she could to break free, but the elf was to quick and to clever to fall for any of her tricks. He sighed listlessly, "Really now, is that any way for a princess to act?"

"I'm _not_ your princess!" She bit mercilessly into his arm, tasting his blood in her mouth. With a shrill cry Daemon lurched back, releasing the girl with a forceful throw. She flew to the floor, yelping as her elbow made contact with the solid, harsh floor. As quickly as her adrenaline rush would allow, Elaina bolted from the ground and ran in the opposite direction, hoping to loose the elf in the dark. Her breath came in short, quick gasps as she flew down the unlit path that she'd chosen, hoping against hope that she'd find an exit.

Daemon swore, holding his bleeding arm and cried, "_Letta!"_ He heard Elaina cry, followed by a soft thump only a few feet away. He pushed back a lock of white hair, grimacing, "How annoying. Galbatorix should have killed you when he had the chance." He giggled with anticipation for seeing the girl covered in her own blood. She was a danger now; her powers were awakening. Any time now she would be able to unleash her full potential, and when that happened, more than dragon eggs would be bending to her will. _This must end_.

He found her quickly enough, squirming around on the ground in an attempt to break free. Daemon stared at her condencendingly, "And this is where you die, Elaina Angrenost, daughter of the Young Dragon, remaining heir to the Three Heads of Angrenost!" A pale gray light began to illuminate his hand as he raised it above his head. His mouth opened, readying to speak the words that would end her life; Elaina clenched her eyes shut.

_Shunk._ That sole sound flew from Daemon's chest to softly land on Elaina's ears. The sound of liquid dripping to the floor in crimson raindrops danced and played around Daemon's feet. The light from the elf's hand dimmed, along with that of his eyes, and soon the torches of the room became alive again. Elaina opened her eyes to see Daren, the young squire boy, shaking behind the elf with a blood rapier in his hand. His eyes were shielded, and the usual glow of the boy's face had left him, "Lady Elaina. . ." Daren dropped to his knees, the lifeless body of the elf fell over, almost toppling onto the child.

She rushed towards him, her white gown now covered in blood, and wrapped him in a warm embrace. She stroked his head as a mother would a frightened child, "It's alright," she rocked him back and forth, "you did nothing wrong."

"M-Murtagh, he. . ." Daren began to sob into her arms, holding her all the more tightly, "He said, he said I should protect you. . .!"

The sound of armor-clad footsteps echoed from the opened door, shadows of the line of soldiers dancing upon the walls like ghosts. Elaina pulled Daren's head away, gently, and lifted his head so she could stare him in the eyes, "And you have; there's nothing wrong with what you did. But right now," she smiled at him sweetly, "I have to protect you." Helping the boy to his feet, Elaina rushed to the side of the door, Daren closely behind her with his hand tightly grasping her own. The soldiers were closer now, almost to the doorway. Elaina held a finger to her mouth, saying, "sshh!" and recieved a confirming knod from the boy. They waited as the first man filed into the room, closely followed by a second. Soon the entire column of soldiers were in the room, neither one of them looking behind themselves. With a quick look from Elaina, the two dashed out of the room on silent feet, hoping that no other patrols would find them.

**Ramr River**

Murtagh flexed his hand experimentally, testing out his bandage. Eragon had been kind enough to rip the bottom of his cloak and wrap it around his brother's bleeding hand. The once beautiful blue fabric now had a nasty black stain growing through its middle, seeping through the woolen strings. A cool breeze tossed his hair about his face, tickling his nose and causing him to sneeze.

The Ramr flowed by his feet gently, much different from the first time he'd crossed. Then again, while he was traveling with Eragon and Saphira, the had chosen to cross at one of the most violent points of the stream. However, as they were camped, He, Eragon, Roran, and the dragons rested near the beginning of the river. He listened to the soothing sound of the river flowing by, forgetting momentarily the mess that the world was.

The sun rose quickly, evaporating the dew from the grass and causing the river to sparkle with new light. Clear skies and warm breezes put the group's spirits into a higher mood, but not a soul had spoken since Murtagh had regained conciousness. The emerald dragon egg rested by the fireside, its smooth shell reflecting the rising sun. Roran sat across from it, staring at it with an emotionless expression. A light chuckle escaped from Murtagh before he could catch himself. He remembered being afraid of his own dragon egg, but under different circomstances; Roran didn't have the threat of eternal enslavement looming over him.

Eragon caught his cousin's expression and laughed, "It won't bite you until it hatches, Roran."

"Quiet!" The gruff man barked, staring moodily at the unhatched creature, "I'll touch it when the time is right."

_You know, _Thorn interupted, flicking his tail playfully in the water's cool stream, _I'd be mighty offended if I knew my Rider were sitting across from me, delaying my hatching when I'd waited for years to meet him._

Murtagh smiled, _he has such a big mouth._ He watched as Roran exploded with frightful curses as he stormed towards the dragon. Eragon, rubbing his head helplessly, tried to calm him down with quick words and slight pats on the shoulder. The man soon turned on his cousin, calling him things like moron, idiot, half-man, and so on. The smile on Eragon's face quickly evaporated and he soon took up the argument, poking fun at Roran's beard and ragged looks. Saphira eyed them with dull amusement, gave Murtagh a quick glance, then returned to resting her head under a tiny tree.

Murtagh shook his head, _Is this what it would have been like, _he mused, _if Selena had taken me with her? _Pushing himself from the ground, Murtagh slowly walked towards the fighting men, a light smile on his face. He hadn't felt so carefree in weeks, the last time being when he was out in the field with Elaina. Worry pranced across his heart as he thought of the girl alone in the castle, but he had confidence in Allister and Daren.

"--love sick fool!" Eragon shouted as Murtagh placed a hand on his shoulder. He spun around, face slightly red, and stared angrily at his brother, "What?!"

Murtagh pushed him to the ground, making sure that he couldn't stand back up. Roran began to charge at him, his hand resting on his hammer, and Saphira roared and stood. Murtagh sighed, "I'm not going to hurt him," he eyed Saphira, not really worried about Roran, "you of all people should know he has a temper."

A low rumble emitted from the female dragon; Eragon blushed, "Let me up!"

"Not until you calm down."

Eragon pointed a finger childishly at Roran, "He's the one who started it! Why not push him to the dirt?!"

Murtagh scowled, "Because I know what he's going through!" Cool green eyes met Roran's, "Your scared, I know. I know how it feels to be anxious about hatching a dragon egg. But if you don't," he paused, looking down with shielded eyes. When he spoke next, his words were tourtured and painful, yet still calm, "If you don't make that egg hatch, then Eragon will be the only one able to stop Galbatorix. . . and me."

Roran lowered his hand from his hammer, eyeing the egg as if it held a sword to his throat, "I. . . I know I could help Eragon, but," his face was twisted into a sorrowful grimace, "nothing good comes from those eggs! Because of Eragon's, we've lost our father, our home, friends, everything! We can never become standard citizens in any city now, for our heads are wanted in every province. Katrina and I will never be able to start a family, knowing that our children will always be on the run, along with just getting a house to begin with!"

Murtagh frowned sympathetically, "Yes, but--"

"And you!" Roran said, not unkindly, "You of _all_ people should know the true dangers of dragons. Because of your dragon you can never be free again, unless we kill Galbatorix, which I don't think is going to happen!"

Guilt from Thorn entered Murtagh's body, causing rage to boil up inside his heart. Without warning, Murtagh lifted his hand from Eragon's shoulder and punched his cousin in the face, sending the man flying. Eragon cried and rushed to his side as Murtagh held his hand, "_Never_ accuse Thorn of causing my problems. If anyone has given me cause for woe it is cravens like you who are to busy hidding their tails between their legs then actually trying to better things." Blood trickled down his arm, soaking his sleeve, "Yes, it's true that having a dragon will bring you some misfortune, but you also gain a friend that will never harm you, never wish you ill will," he turned his head to Thorn and stared at him lovingly, "and _never_ abandon you, even if you're to be the pawns of a madman." He walked over to the fireside, lifted the emerald egg from the ground, and walked over to Roran. He placed the egg next to the man, eyeing him coldly, "Now if I were you, I wouldn't leave you cousin to fight such a monster, such as myself, alone. Set that dragon free, Roran," he smiled warmly, "if not for Eragon then for Katrina."

Eragon glaced from one man to the other, searching for a slight flinch in wills. Thorn roared with laughter, _stubborness must run in the family too. _

_Quiet, Thorn, _Murtagh commanded, smirking, _I just got done casting you in a high light. Don't dim it now._ The dragon flicked his tounge out and grunted.

_Hatchling, _Saphira said, giggling. Thorn blew smoke at her.

Minutes passed, and Roran began to flinch under Murtagh's piercing glare, "Alright!" He cried, placing his hand across the egg's smoothe surface. A mocking smile crossed his face, "Ha! So much for your theory, _cousin_, it won't hatch for--" A resounding crack shattered any sentence Roran was about to finish. All three of the men lept back, Saphira and Thorn inching closer to watch the scene play out. A lone crack split the once perfect shell of the baby dragon in half, a deep hole now visible in its center. Slowly but surely the surface began to bluge, the membrane of the shell cracking and stretching as the dragon's tiny head pried and pushed. Small chirps could be heard from within the hollow, then a mighty shriek exploded from behind the shell, and out tumbled a tiny dragon.

Saphira lowered her nose, sniffing gently at the tiny creature, _hello, little one. _In response the new dragon tilted his head back and roared a high pitch roar, causing the group to smile. Its deep green scales put the dry grass to shame as the sparkled in the midmorning light, casting tiny beams of green light on the yellowish plantation. Onyx like spikes, no larger than a roses thorn, ran along the dragon's spine and ended at the tip of his tail. Alert, intellegent purple eyes studied Roran and the others. Roran stared at it with dumbfound amazement, his jaw dropped fully to its bottom. Saphira nudged the tiny creature towards its Rider, _touch him._

"Will it hurt?" He asked, a smile slowly creeping across his face.

"Only for a moment," Eragon said lightly.

"Yes," Murtagh mused, "the real pain is when they get bigger." A flash momentarily blinded the group as Roran reached out a hand and touched the newborn, then they left the two to rest beside Saphira's shade tree.


	13. A Name for A Dragon

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Thirteen: A Need for A Name**

**Reviewers: Sorry for the wait! I've been sort of busy with a play at school. Anyway, THANK YOU FOR THE WONDERFUL REVIEWS! YOU GUYS ROCK! I hope you like this chapter, even though it is rather short. I've got Vista now, and the WordPad is different from XP's version, so I can't really measure my chapter length like I used to. Well, read and enjoy, and hopefully I'll have another chapter up soon!**

**Blah: Even though Vista is really new, it is TOTALLY worth it! It's just so...pretty, lol.****  
**

Dusk was gently rolling into the valley as the group of Riders set camp for the night. Cast in the lights of prenight, Saphira, Thorn, and the new dragon's scales glittered and sparkled like a lost treasure trove left out by some careless owner. Murtagh was busying himself with the fire, striking a pair of flint stones and producing promising sparks. Eragon, not wanting to hunt but being forced to by both cousin and brother, went a little way from the camp and returned with two connies. He noticed Murtagh had yet to start a fire and began to walk towards him. Smirking, he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Starting a fire," he grunted, "I don't need magic for everything."

"Alright," Eragon walked away slowly, whispering _brisinger_ under his breath. He ran as the two flint stones went sailing past his head.

Roran sat on a soft patch of dirt, picking the remaining membrane from the newborn dragon's scales. A pleasant smile spread across his face, and for the first time in a year, Eragon felt his cousin had finally met some peace. Violet eyes settled intently on a small butterfly that happened to cross the young dragon's nose, which quickly disappeared with a snap of his jaw. The wind gently whistled around their ears, adding more to the already laid back atmosphere. Saphira sniffed curiously at the stew that was simmering over the tiny fire.

"So," Murtagh pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them for extra warmth, "what's his name?"

_We can't come up with anything, _Saphira said, allowing the tiny dragon to play with the tip of her tail. _And besides, Roran should be the one to name him._

"So it _is _a he?" Roran sighed, "Good; I'm terrible with girl names."

Eragon was finishing an apple, his mouth half full, "Whell," he swallowed, "what about Geladreon?"

"No, that's not what I was thinking." Stretching out a hand, Roran summoned the green creature to his side. It waddled obediently towards its Rider, resting on his left thigh. It nipped at his fingers, "I think, I want him to be called Garrow."

"Garrow?" Murtagh raised his head, "Why that?"

"The name of our fa. . ." Eragon frowned, looking away from the others, "That was the name of our father."

"Of course it was." Murtagh stood, stretching cramped legs, "I should return; they'll be looking for me."

"Is that wise?" Roran asked, a note of concern in his voice, "Won't you be punished?" Murtagh shrugged and walked towards Thorn with a detached air. Roran grumbled, "So much for our 'rescue attempt'. How am I supposed to repay my debt to you if you're in Uru'baen?"

"Debt?" He turned, staring at his cousin blankly, "What debt do you owe me? Thorn already repaid my debt to you!"

"What?"

Murtagh eyed his dragon cooly, _Thorn, what did you do?_

The dragon shifted uncomfortably under their gazes, shuffling his talons in the dirt, causing dust to fly up. _I might have used the girl, wait! _Roran was clenching his fists, a dark glare staring holes in the dragon's skull, _It was the only way you would trust me! You wouldn't have even let me near you if Eragon hadn't sensed that girl on my back._

The group gave Thorn a slight reprieve and turned their eyes to Eragon. He shrugged and said, "It's true."

Thorn snorted, then continued, _It's true that we had a debt to you, Roran. _He rested gentle yellow eyes on the new Rider, _If you hadn't killed the Twins, Murtagh and I would probably not even be able to walk around Uru'baen, let alone be able to be here. So I am sorry for deciving you._

"We must go," Murtagh snapped, his eyes hidden behind his hair. Eragon reached out a hand as if to stop him, but Murtagh shot him a cold glare, "Look, there's nothing you can do, so just drop it."

"Why are you so quick to give up?" Eragon shouted, his face turning red, "Maybe you _want _to be our enemies!" It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and Eragon half expected to be punched as his cousin had been that morning. He clenched his eyes tightly shut, expecting an impact. Nothing happened. When he opened his eyes he found his brother staring at him, a sad smile faintly visible upon his lips.

The wind blew Murtagh's hair in his face, shielding it from view. When the brown locks moved aside, a stone mask had replaced the smile that had once been there. He said nothing to the other men, but walked to Thorn and saddled him, taking off into the evening sky.

"Eragon?" Roran was walking towards him now, Garrow nestled cosily in his arms, "are you going to be alright?"

A single tear fell from his cousin's eye, and Eragon shook with intense anger and sadness, "It's not fair." He kicked the flint rock that had sailed past him earlier, fell to his knees, and screamed with all his hurt and sadness.

**Above the Ramr**

_That should have never happened, _Murtagh said, resting his head on Thorn's warm scales, _now it will only become harder for Eragon to--_

_Weren't you the one that said life was still to sweet?! _Thorn snapped. He lost concentration for a moment and lost slight altitude, shaking his Rider. Once he regained his pattern, he stated flatly, _is death really our only option?_

_I don't know! But we've tried everything else, and unless Galbatorix somehow dies before we do, then our chances of escape are pretty slim._ He laughed grimly, _the dirty bastard would probably turn us into living shields before a blade even touched his mail._

_Pleasant._ Thorn drifted on the air stream for a while, gliding silently. Minutes passed before he asked, _do you feel. . . lighter?_

_Lighter? _Murtagh leaned up, placing a hand on his forehead. Imprints of Thorn's scales were left upon the soft skin, _now that you mention it, yeah. I wonder why?_

_Maybe we're ill?_

_No,_ a foreboding feeling tightened around his stomach, _I'm worried about Elaina and the others. Can you fly faster._ He felt Thorn's rumbling laughter, _wait, no, Thorn--!_ His thoughts were disconnected and Murtagh was forced to grasp for dear life as the dragon shot forward with a breakneck speed.

**Uru'baen, Palace**

Returning to her normal clothing, Elaina walked out of her room and tossed her hair. She was terrified of what would happen next, but at the moment she needed to be strong for Daren. The boy hadn't spoken a word since they left the egg chamber, and his shaking had only gotten worse. A silver ribbon of moonlight cast lightly over the child's eyes, once vibrant and full of life, now dull and shadowed, as if hiding a great fear. Elaina placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Are you ready to go?" He knodded, not looking up, "Alright then, lead the way."

Daren rose, half in a trance, and led her around the twists and turns of the endless hallways. The pitter-patter of their footsteps reminded Elaina of a soft rainstorm, yet she knew if they didn't quicken their pace, they would soon meet with a malestrom. The hallway widened quicker now, a large oaken door began to come into vision. Iron lanterns hung loosely from the ceiling, swinging back and forth on the whims of the castle's drafts.

Suddenly the boy stopped, shaking. Elaina was about to ask what was wrong when the sound of scraping echoed from behind. She froze, her heart stopping. A cold sweat sent chills down her spine and a fear she'd felt once before assulted her mind with new force. She felt like a trapped rabbit, cornered by a rabid wolf.

Heavy breathing soon followed the scratches, and a dark, large shape loomed in the shadows behind them. Her knees went numb, and she was paralyzed with fear. Daren whimpered, dropping to the ground. The sight of the cowering boy shook Elaina from her terrored trance, "Up!" She demanded, "Rise! We must flee." The boy didn't move, he only shook his head and continued to whimper. His mind had seen to much trauma for the day.

The scratches came quicker now, louder. Elaina dove at Daren, lifting him with all her strength. A shrill cry cracked the night air and made their ears feel as if they were bleeding. "Run!" She shouted, pulling the boy with her as she bolted to the door. The hall seemed to stretch on forever, as if it were stretching its length to prevent their escape. The sound of wing beats filled their ears, Elaina momentarily blinded by her hair dancing about her face.

Another massive wing beat and the creature was in front of them, turning on them with a veral snarl. It had a beak that was seven feet long, a muscled and leathery body with two demon like wings protruding from its back. Standing upon the beast was the black robbed monster that had grabbed Elaina's arm days before. The Ra'zac hissed as he jumped from his stead's back, reaching for his prey.

Elaina shoved Daren behind her, her arms outstretched, "Move!"

"You dare to command me?" Hissed the Ra'zac, "know your place, whore!" Inhuman strength striked Elaina's cheek and sent her flying, crashing into the wall. She hit the ground with a sickening thud. Daren sat hopelessly as the creature advanced, walking closer and closer to the unconcious girl. He was mere inches from her when he stood erect, sniffing the air. The Lethrblaka cried, snapping its massive beak.

The oaken doors blew open, splintered by the force of magic that hand ripped them apart. There in the moonlight stood Murtagh, his eyes burning as brightly as his gedwey ignasia. His face was disfigured by a menacing snarl, "Back away from them, monster."

The Ra'zac hesitated, then noted the lack of a sword belt around Murtagh's unprotected body, "And what will you do, oh massster Rider?"

"I can make your worst imaginations become a reality," Murtagh stepped closer, Thorn growling beside him, "again; step away from them."

The Ra'zac drew back his hood, revealing a sickening face with lidless yellow eyes. A rebellious glow flashed in each oval as he reached into his cloak, removing a silver flask. Murtagh stopped, drawing in a breath. "Yessss," he hissed, "you know what isss contained in thissss bottle." The cork opened with an ominous pop.

Thorn roared, claws kneding the ground furiously. Murtagh tensed, but kept put on a calm face, "You should heed my warning."

"You are no threat to me, Rider!" He laughed, "What will you do with no sword? Magic cannot touch me in this place!" He began to tip the flask of seithr oil above Elaina's head. Cool, clear liquid peeped a threatening head out of the mouth of the flask. Soon a transparent string of deadly liquid fell from the bottle, falling fast towards its target.

Murtagh raised his hand, gedwey ignasia shining through the stained, blue cloth. The liquid stopped in mid-air, motionless. The Ra'zac stared at it in wonder as it soon regained life and twisted about him like a venomous snake. The strand danced, hypnotically, until it came crashing down upon the monster's eyes, slowly simmering them into nothing. The Ra'zac shrank to the ground and its Lethrblaka charged towards it, knocking Murtagh to the wall. It clamped its offspring in one of its massive talons, then soared out of the opening. Thorn sent it a farewell present of a jet of ruby flame.

Daren, crawling slowly towards his battered friend, trembled and whispered, "Murtagh?" He said nothing. A dark stain of black was left where his head had made contact with the stone wall. His eyes were closed, and the only sign of life was his faint breathing.

Outside the doorway stood a young man with pale, shimmering blond hair. Clear yet mocking blue eyes stared at the sight with slight amusement as his clear voice jarred the silence, "My, what a mess this is! Daren, help me get these two cleaned up." He winked, "Mustn't let the king find them this way!"


	14. Safe Haven

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Fourteen: Safe Haven**

**Reviewers: Thank you again for reading my story! I have to write this quickly, but please enjoy yourself and I hope to get your wonderful reviews! ****  
**

The first thing Murtagh knew was that he was warm. The back of his head throbbed, each heartbeat sending a dull pain to the back of his skull. A soft smell hung lazily in the air, a soft bubbling noise gurgled next to him. He ran his fingers down the smooth, cool blanket that covered him down to his toes.

With an effort he opened his eyes, flooded by dim red light. The room had gray dirt walls and took a circular shape. Sparse furniture was scattered about the room in a messy fashion, moldy rugs rested on the cool stone ground. A lone lantern rested on the wall beside a rotting piece of cloth, covering up what Murtagh assumed was the door. A brick fire place, a black cauldron bubbling over its flame, was to his left, an armchair sitting in front of the mouth. He smiled as he saw Elaina's hazel hair light up with the warm glow of the fire.

"Oh, you're awake!" A clear voice said, "I was about to wonder if you'd sleep forever." Murtagh, still dizzy and disoriented, slowly moved his head to see a young man sitting in the corner of the room. His blond, almost white hair was tied back in a ponytail, crystaline eyes resting easily on his face. A small smile crossed his face, "How are you feeling?"

"Who are you?" Murtagh tried to sit up but was to weak and dizzy to maintain his weight. He fell back onto the cushions, grateful that he had something soft to land on, "Where are we?"

The man laughed, sounding like the happy chirping of a robin who's just awaken, "You are in a safe place, for now, and as for who I am," he grinned mischeviously, "I am Lian."

His head throbbed again and Murtagh reached a hand up and gingerly touched the surface of his wound. He found that it had been neatly bandaged, "We were at the castle. . . How did you . . .?" The questions swam around inside of his mind, but he was in no condition to ask them. Sighing, he submitted to the feather down pillow and closed his eyes, "It doesn't matter; if you were an enemy you would have killed us earlier."

Lian laughed again, then rose from his stool and walked to the fireside. He grabbed a small bowl and ladle that had been sitting on the lip above the open flame, "Are you hungry?" He dipped the laddle into the cauldron, "It's not much, but Elaina thought that you should have something when you woke up." The clinking of the spoon on the bowl worsened Murtagh's headache, but soon forgot about it when he saw the chicken soup that was being brought to him. Lian walked over, on quiet feet to avoid awaking Elaina, and helped Murtagh sit upright, "Careful, you haven't eaten in quite a while."

After a few sparse sips on the broth, Murtagh coughed and asked, "What of Thorn? And Daren? Are they here too?"

"Yes, yes," Lian answered, slightly aggrivated, "all are accounted for. You needn't worry so much." He turned and walked towards the door, "If you like, I'll send the boy in. He's been very anxious since I brought him underground."

"Underground?!" Murtagh spilt some of the hot liquid onto his lap, cursing, "How did we get undergrou--"

"You'll learn soon enough, but for now you need rest. A sick Rider is no help to any of us." Lian then disappeared behind the moldy curtain, vanishing into the darkness of the cave.

_Underground?! _It was to rediculious an thought for him to comprehend. He leaned back against the headboard, taking a deep breath, _Thorn? Are you here?_

There was a long pause, then then dragon sleepily replied, _yes. How is your head?_

_Fine._

_Good, then you won't mind me saying, _the dragon paused, _THAT WAS THE STUPIDEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED! ELAINA COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED! _

Despite himself, Murtagh laughed, _I'm glad to see that you're alright. I can't really remember what happened anyway, so none of your scolding is taking effect._

_Shall I remind you? _Thorn snapped.

_No, I don't think it's something I want to remember._ Murtagh forced his legs to the side of the bed, every movement causing tiny dots to dance in front of his eyes. He wobbled back slightly, walking over to the fireplace. Elaina was asleep in the armchair, unaware of his presence. A small smile spread across his face as he lifted her from the chair and walked back over to the bed. He placed her gently on the soft cushions, covering her up as best he could with the sparse blanket. He sighed, moved a lock of her hair from her face, and left the room.

**Melian Area**

Eragon looked down from Saphira's side, trying to avoid Garrow's snapping jaws. Apparently the young dragon had made a game of trying to catch his hair in his mouth, which mostly ended up with the dragon having a mouthful of his ear. The quick little creature nipped the tip of his ear this time, causing him to yelp, "Watch it!"

"Sorry," Roran laughed, "he's stopped listening to me." He reached for Garrow's head, gently prying the tiny teeth from Eragon's left ear. The dragon protested, but soon gave way and allowed Roran to craddle him in his arms.

They'd left that morning, not even bothering to gather up their camping gear. Both Riders felt that it was to dangerous to stay around the area for to long. The sun had already risen far above their heads, the sky clear and bright, yet the wind was still very cold. Few birds dared fly to close to Saphira, as if they'd finally learned that flying lizards were something to be avoided.

Hours passed, and soon they could see the city of Cithri, signaling their return to Surda. Eragon slouched in his saddle, relieved, "Finally."

"I thought you didn't get tired?" Roran asked, looking down.

"No, I just don't sleep," he paused, "it's really hard to explain." At times he began to wonder if his change really was for the best. Then again, if he'd have stayed the same, he would still have his scar. He laughed bitterly, "Well, at least I don't feel the pain anymore."

"Yes," Roran knodded. He'd heard from Arya what had befallen his cousin, and if he hadn't of witness some of the madness of his brother's life, he would have never believed it. His own adventures had amazed many and more of the Varden upon his arrival, and to his surprise they were more welcome than he'd first thought. Many of the men from the village had decided to help with the fighting, refreshing the decemated warrior ranks after the battle at the Burning Plains.

Aberon shone in the afternoon light, the sun setting slowly behind it. The vast ocean could be seen sparkling with the multicolors of sunset, sea birds casting black shadows on the read and orange clouds. Saphira dove closer, stretching out her massive wings to glide gently to the ground. Garrow was almost dropped; he was trying to mimic the older dragon and knocked Roran's arms from his body.

Arya, Katrina, and Nasuada stood outside the gate with angry and concern faces. Eragon stiffened under their cold stairs. The elven princess stepped forward, an angry glare lighting up her midnight green eyes, "Where on earth have you been?! You two were missing for two days!" She glared at Roran, "Katrina's been worried sick, but she wouldn't tell us a thing." Roran mouthed a silent thank you to the copper haired girl.

Eragon shuffled his weight, rocking back and forth on his heels, "We were just trying to help." He sighed, not looking anyone in the eye.

Nasuada frowned, "Help? Help with what?" A beaming smile of pearl white teeth lit up her face, "You weren't recruiting for the Varden, were you?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what were you doing?" Arya looked at Saphira, "Will you tell me?"

_It is not my place to say, Arya, _she shot a glance at Eragon.

He sighed, but Roran placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "We were trying to help Murtagh and his dragon." At the word 'dragon' Garrow popped out from the hovel in Saphira's back, sniffing the air.

Everyone stopped talking, their faces stuck in utter shock. Nasuada was the first to catch herself, "I will go and tell Orrin of this, you may enter the city but do not go to far," she smiled sadly, "I wish to know about what has befallen Murtagh." With a ruffling of her skirts she disappeared into the city streets, the clicking of her heels slowly fading away.

"How did you manage to," Arya took a step forward, disbelief and wonder replacing her anger and worry, "this is impossible! How did you get a third dragon? Why aren't you being pursude by the Empire? And who's dragon _is_ it?!" She shouted the last sentence.

Eragon didn't know how to act; it was very rare that the elf would lose her composure. He laughed nervously, "Well, we couldn't really figure out how the dragon egg came to us, but," he looked to Roran, "it belongs to my cousin."

"He's beautiful," while the others were talking, Katrina had silently repositioned herself next to Saphira, gently stroking Garrow's head. She giggled as he lightly licked her fingers, "What's his name?"

Roran stood beside her, an arm wrapped lightly around her shoulder, "Garrow. I believe my father is worthy of being a dragon."

"It's a wonderful name," she said playfully, "but what will we call our child now, if it be a boy?"

Roran froze, shocked. A gentle sparkle was in Katrina's eye, and she blushed lightly. Roran stammered, "I-Is it true?" She knodded and Roran embraced her fiercely, rough fingers running through her long copper hair. The widest smile Eragon had every seen his cousin wear lit up his entire face, "This is wonderful news!" He laughed, "I guess I need to get to work even quicker now, eh?" Katrina laughed, Garrow leaped onto Roran's shoulder.

He stopped laughing, looking sadly at the small dragon, "And now I've created another danger for our family."

"Oh don't be so sullen," Katrina removed Garrow from his shoulder, allowing the tiny dragon to spread his wings as he balanced himself on her palm, "this is the greatest thing you could have done for our child. Who would dare mess with the child of a Dragon Rider." Eragon coughed, causing the rest to laugh.

Once they had settled down, Arya smiled and said, "Let's get inside; it's beginning to get cold." She caught Eragon looking at her and quickly turned and went behind the gates, followed closely by Katrina and Garrow.

_She still hates me, _Eragon said, leaning against Saphira's leg. Her warmth spread through him like a drink of mulled beer.

_Little one, she doesn't hate you. She's just, _she paused, trying to find the right word, _scared._

_I know, _he sighed, _I know._ He pushed himself off, walking ahead of Saphira until she grabbed him with her fang, _what is it?_

_Are you alright?_

_I just, _he clenched his fist, frowning, _there has to be something more we can do. We can't just leave him like that._

Saphira craned her neck, the pale moonlight reflecting in her gigantic blue eyes, _Maybe there is, but do not worry about it tonight. Tonight you should be with friends; you've had a terrible few days._ She licked him lightly, humming.

Eragon hugged her then continued forward, struggling to keep up with Saphira's massive strides.

**Underground**

Elaina stirred, trying to figure out why the chair had suddenly become so comfortable. She opened her eyes and sighed; she was in the bed Murtagh had been sleeping in. _At least he's awake, _she thought angrily, _but he shouldn't be walking around with his head so injured. _She removed the blanket and stretched, the corner of her eye becoming teary as she yawned.

The fire was still going, but more light was coming from behind the door than it was when she'd drifted off to sleep. She stood and walked toward it, reaching out a hand to remove the curtain. Just as she was about to move it sideways Murtagh came through. She jumped, holding her hand to her heart. "Did I scare you?" Murtagh laughed, "You're very easy to sneak up on, you know that?" Elaina hit him in the arm, "Ow!"

She stormed past him, to angry to even look at him. She noticed that Daren and the blond man were sitting around a tiny round table, the smell of roasted apples and freshly baked bread sweetening the air. Daren smiled meekly, "Good morning, princess Elaina."

"Please," she said, an annoyed smile on her face, "don't call me that." Looking around, she asked, "Where exactly are we, mister--?"

"Lian, and you are in the underground tunnels beneath Uru'baen." He smiled, "Are you sure you should be hitting Murtagh? He did suffer many injuries."

"He'll suffer many more if he doesn't stay put and rest," she said, crossing her arms. She saw him in the corner of her eye, then moved her head quickly to avoid his gaze, "Is Thorn here? Is he small enough to fit?"

Murtagh slid a chair from underneath the table, sitting on the far side of Elaina, "He's fine; this isn't the only cavern here. This place is like a honeycomb down here, so if you go out make sure you stay close." He reached for a piece of bread, staring at it for a long time.

"Hm, rather tense in here, eh?" Lian stood, grabbing a roasted apple and quickly tossed it into a bowl, "Well then, I guess Daren and I shall leave. You two need to talk." Daren looked like he was about to protest, but hastily picked up a loaf of bread and followed Lian out, crumbs falling to the floor behind him.

It was quiet, the only noise was Elaina's tapping foot. Murtagh looked down at his hands, afraid what he might see when he looked up. _Why is she so mad?_

_He's such an idiot, _she thought, smiling. She giggled when he wouldn't raise his head to look at her. Elaina stretched out her hand, grabbing a tiny piece of the leftover bread that was laying in the center of the table. Taking careful aim so she wouldn't aggrivate the back of his head, Elaina tossed the piece, watching it roll across the table after it bounced off of Murtagh's head. She laughed when she saw white little crumbs stuck in his dark hair.

He dusted them off, smiling, "So are you still mad at me?"

"Of course I am," she winked, "but I am glad that you're awake." She frowned, "Where were you for so long? I thought the worst when Daemon came after me and you weren--"

"Daemon what?!" He stood, rushing to her side. Murtagh grabbed her hand, worry in his eyes, "Were you hurt? How did you get away?" Elaina frowned, then recounted all that had happened in the past few days. She told him of her searching for him, of Daren's destruction of Daemon, and finally the last thing she remembered about the Ra'zac. When she was done Murtagh's face was disfigured by an expression of guilt, "Daren. . ." He sighed, "I should have never left. You needed me, and now a boy has bloodstained hands because I wasn't there to protect you." He took both of her hands into his, gasping as he felt a rough, bumpy spot. He flipped her right hand over and saw a sickening scab that covered most of her palm, "It _was _you!"

She looked at him quizzically, "Hm? What do you mean?"

"I saw you, in a dream I had, right before the dragon egg was in my palm! Somehow you sent that egg to me." He frowned, looking her in the eye, "How did you do that?"

"I. . ." She wrapped her arms around herself, "I don't know. I don't really remember what happened. It felt like, like something was calling me, and the next thing I knew I was inside of that dreadful room." She shuddered, tears brimming in her eyes.

Murtagh stood, then wrapped his body around her's, "It's alright; you didn't do anything wrong." He tilted her head up and smiled down at her, "In fact, you might have just saved Alagaesia!"

She laughed, then buried her head into his chest, "Thank you, Murtagh."

"I'm just glad you're talking to me again. . . Ow!" He laughed as she removed her fist from his stomach.


	15. Under A Broken City

**Pale Hope**

**by Namine3419**

**Chapter Fifteen: Under A Broken City**

**Reviewers: Thanks again for the great reviews! Sorry it's taken me so long to update again; I get horrible migranes. Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter; it took me a while to write it. I think I'm so far from the actual book now it's not even funny, lol. Anywho, read and enjoy and I can't wait for more of your wonderful reviews!**

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Dark, dank walls surrounded Murtagh as he continued down the tunnel to where Thorn lay. The dripping of cold water from the stalactites above vibrated in his ear and the entire passage smelled of wet dirt. Little to no life could be sensed in the corridor, however, once he emerged into the gigantic opening where Thorn sat, his mind was assaulted by all sorts of lifeforms. There were tiny, furry bats hanging from the ceiling, eyeing their intruder with cautious eyes. A peculiar type of bird was to busy constructing a nest to attract the female next to him, and an army, if not an entire nation, of worms, beetles, and other insects lay before his feet. As he stepped down he felt a small light extinguish from existence, "Oops."

_How are you feeling, _Thorn asked, swirling his tail in a cool pond that rested beside him. The dragon's scales shimmered and reflected on the water's surface, intensifying the glow of the room from the lanterns that hung sparsely along the walls. Boulders of all sizes were scattered about as if a giant had tossed them about with no concern for where they landed. Mushrooms of all kinds poked from cracks in the walls, their caps the only color in the cavern, save Thorn's scales. His claws clicked on the stone as he adjusted himself to face Murtagh, _You look skinnier; are you sick?_

_No, just. . . _ He sighed, running his hands through his hair, _worried. I have no idea who this Lian person is, but somehow he knew where these passages were. Do you have any idea where we are?_

_Of course, _the dragon said proudly, _unlike you, I was conscious when we were brought here._

A shadow passed over Murtagh's eyes, _If you knew, dear friend, then why didn't you tell me sooner?_

_Lian wanted you to figure it out. He said it would be funny, _Thorn laughed, _and by the look on your face he was right._

Sitting down, Murtagh laughed and said, _Sometimes I wonder if you're on my side._

_Don't even joke about that, _Thorn lowered his head, yellow eyes staring at him, _you know that's not true._

Murtagh patted his nose softly, _I was only joking. Now, _Murtagh frowned, _why is it that no one has found us? I thought that all the underground passages in Uru'baen were either sealed or watched?_

_I don't know, _Thorn growled, _I do not trust this Lian character; he seems to helpful._

_I don't trust him either, but if it wasn't for him, then Elaina and Daren would be facing Galbatorix right now. _

_And us, don't forget that, _he groaned, _you will probably get off easy, since you didn't know of my plan . . ._

_No, _a mirthless laugh escaped his lips, _it will be equal; you know how he is._

_Aye. . ._ His head popped up, nostrils flaring, _Someone's coming._

The soft pitter-patter of hurried footsteps came echoing from the tunnel's mouth. A small silhouette came rushing out of the shadows, panting. Murtagh rose, resting his hand on Zar'roc's hilt. The dim cavern's light hid the character well, Thorn's scales casting him in even more shadow. Taking a slight step, Murtagh shouted, "Who's there?"

A small sound, like a frightened rabbit who's just been spotted by a wolf, emitted from the figure. Murtagh laughed as he saw the thing tumble and fall to the ground, its face caught by the light. Daren lay face first in the dirt, panting heavily, "Sorry sir, I didn't mean to sneak up on--"

"Get up, Daren," Murtagh reached down to help the boy, rolling his eyes, "and don't call me 'sir', it makes my skin crawl."

"Sorry, Murtagh." He dusted himself off, scanning the room. His eyes rested on Thorn and he smiled, "Hullo, Thorn."

Murtagh relayed his dragon's message, then asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I was wondering," he looked down nervously, drawing circles in the dirt with his toe, "well, that is, I couldn't do much for Elaina when you were gone. I pratically froze on the spot. And, well, I was wondering if you would. . . would . . ." Daren closed his eyes and shouted, "Would you teach me swordplay?!"

"Ah . . ." Thorn was laughing; Murtagh shot him an angry glare. "Daren, it isn't my place to teach you. And besides," he smiled slightly, "you don't have a sword."

"Yes I do! Right here!" The boy pulled up his long shirt, revealing a small scabbard with a wired hilt resting on top, "Lian let me borrow it; he said he wasn't going to use it."

_Who is this guy?_ Sighing, Murtagh said, "Fine; but don't whine to me if you get hurt. Give me your blade." The boy looked at him quizically, but handed over the weapon. Murtagh drew the tiny sword, examining its make. _This is an elven blade, _Murtagh sighed and tried to remember the spell Eragon had used when they sparred. The words came to him, and a dim red light ran along the length of the sharp blade.

Daren gasped, "What did you do?!" He glared at the older boy, "You're cheating!"

Rolling his eyes, Murtagh removed Zar'roc and did the same, "No, I'm just preventing either of our deaths; go on, feel the edge, it won't cut you."

Reaching out, Daren lightly touched the edge of the red blade, then quickly drew his finger back to search for a wound, "Amazing."

"So is this!" Murtagh lunged, surprised to hear the clash of steel on steel. Daren was holding his ground, grimacing, "Not bad."

The boy pushed Murtagh away with a vicious snarl. He jumped to the left, parried Murtagh's stab, and flicked the red blade away. With amazing speed he rushed around, swinging the sword towards Murtagh's right side. The older boy flicked him away as if he were a mere fly. An amused smile spread across his face as their swords clashed, flashes and sparks casting shadows that vanished and reappeared with every new move.

Murtagh danced away from Daren's next attack, tapping him lightly on the back. However, Daren had slipped on a rock underfoot, and went tumbling into the pond. For a few moments Murtagh thought the boy was unconscious under the water, but his head popped up like an acorn that'd just fallen into a lake. Murtagh laughed, walking towards the ward, "Very good! Allister did well."

Daren slapped the water, scowling, "I almost had you. . ."

"Of course," he reached out a hand and pulled the soaked boy from the water, "are you alright?"

"My pride stings," he shivered, "let's head back; I'm cold."

"Alright," he looked at Thorn, _will you be alright?_

_Just send food; I'll be fine._

Murtagh nodded and followed Daren, triping over the same rock that the boy had earlier.

**Aberon, Surda**

White lilies hung from the rafters of a small chapel with stained glass windows. Tapestries of forest green were wrapped around the pues of the small church, candles casting a gleeful light upon the alter. There stood Roran, dressed in a regal doublet with a dark green cloak, clasped around his neck with a pendant of silver. His legs jittered with a nervous flair, Garrow resting lightly on his shoulder. Eragon stood next to him, garbed in a suit of mail that was infused with a deep blue dye. His hair was slicked back in a sad attempt to tidy up the shaggy mess that rested on his brow.

Almost every seat was occupied by a member of Carvahall. Horst, Elain, and their boys were seated up front, along with Bridget and her brood. The children sat restlessly, the boys trying to get a better view of Garrow, while the girls looked at Eragon with awed looks. He shuffled uncomfortably under their gaze, praying that something else would catch their eye soon. He laughed as he watched his cousin, "You'll be alright."

Roran didn't answer, for at the moment the chapel doors inched open. Slowly, Katrina entered, white dress flowing like a gentle waterfall. She floated down the aisle, copper hair flowing gracefully behind her. Arya walked behind her, holding the hem of her dress, as Nasuada entered from the front. Once Katrina and Arya had reached the front of the church, Nasuada smiled and looked to Roran, "Do you, Roran Garrowson, take this woman to be your wife? To love, cherish, and protect for as long as you live? To promise never to abandon and to always support her?"

In the ancient language, Roran answered, "Yes." He smiled at Katrina, who blushed prettily, and said in English, "Forever and always."

Nasuada smiled, then turned towards Katrina, "And do you, Katrina, daughter of Sloan, take this man to be your husband? To cherish and comfort, to love and adore for the rest of your days?"

"Yes, I do," She answered, need help from Arya to say the right words.

"Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you man and wife," she paused for effect, "you may now kiss the bride."

As Roran and Katrina kissed, Eragon smiled mischievously and fired into the sky a few blue sparks. The stream of dancing fire crackled and burst harmlessly to the ground. "There," he said as Roran glared, "I think that's far better than grains of rice, don't you?"

Katrina burst out laughing, then kissed him on the cheek, "I'm proud to have you as a brother, Eragon. It's a beautiful gift, isn't Roran?"

He nodded, a smile creeping across his face, "Yes, it is. Thank you, Eragon." Garrow chirped happily, "Well, I guess we should--"

"What are you waiting for?" Nausada asked, laughing, "Go! Get away from all these nosy people!" She shooed them away, laughing along with the cheers of Carvahall as the couple fled down the aisle, hand in hand.

**Study Room, Aberon Castle**

The festivities of the wedding had taken a greater toll on Eragon than he'd thought. A small headache buzzed behind his eyes as he walked back and forth in the tiny, roasting room, waiting for his liege lord. He sighed, staring out the window, _This is ridiculous! What's taking her so long?_

_Patience, little one. She's very busy._ Saphira said softly, soaking up the sun's plentiful rays. She hummed contently.

Eragon laughed, _I wish I could be as happy as you in this weather, _he wiped the sweat from his brow, _I'm roasting. _

A few minutes later a gently rapping stirred Eragon from his daze. "Come in," he said, standing from the chair behind a desk. Nasuada, followed closely by Arya, entered the room, their exrpessions grave. Eragon sighed, rubbing his forehead between his thumb and forefinger, "I take it this conversation won't be pleasant." He smiled weakly.

"Eragon," Nasuada said softly, then her expression hardened, "we have to know; why did you help Murtagh? We know he is your brother, but by doing this you have raised much suspicion as to where your loyalties really lay. The dwarfs are in a rage! Orik refuses to even come to my counsels."

"I. . ." He hesitated, "What would you have done, if you knew that someone who was dear to you was in trouble?"

"I don't mean to sound cruel," Arya said, frowning, "but you didn't know Murtagh for all that long. And he betrayed you; betrayed us! How can you feel sympathy for someone who would so easily turn to the side of evil?"

"You didn't see him that day!" Eragon exploded, his face turning red. He could feel Saphira trying to tap into his mind, but he pushed her away, "That wasn't the Murtagh I knew! His eyes, I don't know how to explain it, they were. . . cloudy. Almost as if a dark shadow was cast over his mind; the only hint that he was really himself underneath it was when he let Saphira and I go." He sighed, "I know he isn't evil, if he was, how could Roran and I be here? Wouldn't he have taken us straight to Uru'baen once he saw us?"

Nasuada's face hardened, her voice that of steel, "Eragon, I forbid you to go anywhere near Murtagh, least it be in battle," she raised her hand to silence him, "I know how you feel; Murtagh was dear to me as well. But he is our enemy now, and it is your duty to destroy such threats." She sighed, sadness reflected in her dark eyes, "He has become a puppet to Galbatorix, just like his father."

"Then why do you not expect the same from me?" He said coldly.

"Eragon!" Arya slapped his face, her eyes flaring, "Never say such things!"

He said nothing for the longest time, then straightened his back and stared at them, emotionless, "I _will_ help my brother, with your permission or no." Eragon stormed to the door, then turned, "He's not evil; I'll prove it!" Silence fell in the room as he slammed the door, the women staring after him with worried expressions.

**Castle Yards, Aberon**

Saphira sighed, soft gray smoke floating out of her nose, _Little one . . ._

_I'll be alright, _Eragon leaned up against her underbelly, burying his face in her warmth, _I think the heat just got to me._

_They are right, _she said softly, _Murtagh does seem to be beyond help._

_We don't know that, _he said helplessly, _there could still be a way._

_There could, _she said softly, _but do not get your hopes up. In the end, Eragon, your blade might be the only release you can give your brother. _He was silent, but Saphira could feel the hot liquid of his tears lightly falling onto her stomach. She arched her neck, licking his cheek, _I'm sorry. _He tapped her nose lightly, then drifted into a restless dream phase, wishing that he could return to the simpleness of unconscious sleep.

**Underground, Uru'baen**

"You didn't have to knock him into the water," Elaina complained, drying Daren's hair with a spare rag, "he could've caught a cold."

"It's not that cold down here," Murtagh snapped, crossing his arms. Elaina laughed, "What?"

"You act like such a child sometimes," he was about to say something when she threw the towel onto his head, "find some dry close for him; I'm going to help Lian with dinner."

She was gone before he removed the towel; Daren smirked at him. "What are you looking at?" Murtagh grinned, standing, "Well, let's find you some new clothes."

"It's alright," the boy stood and ran to the corner of the room. He opened a small trunk, pulling out a fresh tunic and breeches, "Lian said to pack things for myself and you two. I didn't really know what to grab in either of your rooms, so I just sort of threw things in here."

"Hm," after looking over the items, he began to walk towards the door, "I'm going to feed Thorn, I'll be back soon." Before Daren could say anything else he was gone, rushing down the hall to avoid Elaina and Lian, but used magic to steal a decent piece of meat off of a nearby counter.

Thorn was waiting for him, his head resting at the mouth of the cavern. His eyes looked pained, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. Murtagh hurried to him, placing the meat on the floor. He stroked the tip of the dragon's nose, _Are you alright?_

_He knows, _Thorn said, barely audible, _Galbatorix; he's calling us._

_I know. _Murtagh had hoped to protect his dragon for as long as he could, but the strength of Galbatorix's summons was to much for him to block. His scar tingled with the threat of another attack, _I'm not taking Daren or Elaina back with us; it's to dangerous._

_I wouldn't have it any other way._ Quickly snapping the meat from the floor, Thorn rose enough to where Murtagh could climb onto his saddle, _I suggest we leave, before he sends troops, or worse, to hunt for us._

_Agreed._ As Murtagh buckled his legs into the saddle, he asked, _Do you know the way? I don't know how to get out of here, and I'm sure Lian will find us if I try._

_I've been exploring these caves while you were unconscious, _Thorn laughed, _it will be hours before they realize we've left._ Regret emitted over their link, _Are you sure you want to leave?_

He heard Elaina's laugh echo through the hall, _It's for the best._ All noise vanished, save for the massive beats of Thorn's wings as the dragon rose off the ground, gliding slowly towards a small opening in the cavern's roof.


	16. Painful Reminders Tearful Memories

**Pale Hope**

**by Namine3419**

**Chapter Sixteen: Fearful Reminders; Tearful Memories**

**Reviewers: Thank you again for the wonderful reviews! ****I really do appreciate them. Well, anyway, hurray chapter sixteen! This one is mainly about Elaina; my dad helped me with this one: THANK YOU DAD! Well, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and there is a slight bit of Murtagh at the end; it was to short...  
**

"He's gone," Lian returned, his face flushed and panting, holding his left side, "I looked everywhere for him; Thorn must have shown him the way." He kicked the ground and cursed. He looked up, scowling, "Idiot; what does he think he'll accomplish? Eh?!" Lian slammed his fist against the wall, "Stupid!"

Daren coughed and Lian froze, looking at Elaina. She was sitting in the same chair she had been when he'd left, her face expressionless. She continued to twist a small portion of her dress in both hands, staring off into space. "Why?" She released her cloth, many tiny wrinkles indenting the fabric, "Why would he leave? Was it something I did?" Tears were brimming around her eyes, "It must have been that; it always is."

Daren frowned, cupping a hand on her shoulder, "Why would you think that?"

She looked away, "Because, it's happened before. . ."

**Furnost, about 10 years ago. . .**

She sat on the porch of the Pale Moon tavern, combing through the hair of a small cloth doll. She whistled a light tune, some elvish song she'd heard Shera sing to the bar patrons, while she tackled the dolls many knots and tangles. The six-year-old was sitting alone for hours, waiting for someone; he'd promised to come home today.

"Elaina? Where are--oh!" Shera, a big woman with tan skin and dark, brown hair loomed over the child with a sad smile, "Sweetie, it's getting awfully late; aren't you hungry?"

She shook her head, her hair tickling her back, "Nope! I want to wait until brother gets back!" She cocked an arrogant eyebrow, "What's that face?"

"Honey," Shera said, stooping to the girl's height, "Xavier's been gone for a long time now. . ."

"That's why he's gonna come back so quickly," she beamed, "he said he'd hurry extra fast for me!" Shera just shook her head, patted the girl on the back, and walked into the warm glow of the tavern.

It was pitch dark now, the only light around her was that of a single lantern and the sparse moonlight. Elaina shivered, clutching her doll closely for warmth. _He will come, I know it._ She repeated in her mind stubbornly, trying to calm her growing fear. Xavier had left earlier that summer, once he'd reached manhood. Soldiers from the king's army had combed through the town, demanding that all able-bodied men serve in His Majesty's army. Xavier had accepted the summons bravely, and Elaina had never admired her brother so much. Yet, everyone else seemed to be so sad that he was going; like it was a bad thing. Elaina wasn't sad though, because Xavier had promised that he would come back and see her, even if it killed him.

Hidden behind a dark cloud, the moon darted out of sight, leaving her with only the lantern to light her vision. She sighed, twiddling the hair of her doll to keep her mind of the dark. Then, out of the darkness, she heard the soft _clip-clop_ of hooves on the cobble-stone street. She jumped to her feet, an excited smiled spread wide on her face. "Hello?" She called out, her tiny voice shrill and alone in the night.

Five torches instantly lit up, and in their light was revealed two columns of horsemen, one man leading both files, a single carriage between the rows. Elaina searched frantically for Xavier, but when she looked at the faces of the fully armed soldiers, all she saw was grief and pity reflected in their eyes. The leader of the rows looked down from his brown warhorse, his face grim, "Little one, you should not be out at such an hour."

"I'm waiting for someone," she said, still looking down the rows, "is Xavier with you? Are you his friends?"

The soldier frowned, the shook his head, "Aye, some of us here were his friends, but. . ."

"Elaina?" Shera rushed out, her skirts rustling as she ran. She covered the child with her arms, "What are you doing still out here? I told you to go to bed!"

"Ma'am? You wouldn't happen to be, Mrs. Shera, would you?" The lead soldier asked, a sad note in his voice.

"You carry dark news," her voice was grave, "why have you come--haaa!" She gasped, her eyes landing on the dark carriage that stood silently in the night air. Tears ran down her face, "No," she cried, "no! It cannot be. . ."

"Shera?" Elaina didn't understand what was going on, but for some reason, everyone was crying and sad again. Her eyes drifted to that big black box, and a chill ran through her. On quick feet, to quick for anyone to catch her. Elaina scurried up the box, ignoring everyone's shouts and demands. She shut them all out, focusing on reaching the top of her obstacle.

A foot slipped out from under her, and Elaina lost a slipper, but she finally reached the top of the box. It was covered in a red cloth, the sigil of the Empire etched in black silk on the front. She placed a tiny hand on the stitching, feeling the cold surface of whatever was beneath it. Curious, she gently pulled the fabric away, revealing a glass pane.

Elaina had to strain her eyes in the dark to see what was inside, but when she did she screamed. Tears rolled down her eyes, and she wasn't aware that someone had pulled her away. She scratched and kicked at the metal body, trying to break free, "Why is Xavier in that box!?" She glared at them all, "Get him out of there! That's no place to sleep!"

"Sweetie," Shera said, reaching out a gentle hand.

"No!" Elaina screamed, "I'm coming Xavier! I'll get you away from these mean people!" She kicked and screamed in vain; the man was to strong. Exhausted, she broke down, weeping violently into the soldier's arms.

The next morning she woke up with crusty cheeks. She dressed with a detached air, the carefreeness of the child seemed to be replaced with a deep melancholy. Elaina walked slowly down the stairs, each step sending her into and even sadder and cruel world. She found Shera waiting for her at the bar, two other wenches sitting on stools, looking at her sadly. Elaina reached up, slowly pulling herself into the stool, eyeing her breakfast with an emotionless stare. The wench to her left, a small girl with bright blond hair, patted her on the back, "You gonna be alright, suga?"

"It's my fault," she cried softly, "It's all my fault."

"Oh honey, no!" Said the other wench, her long black hair tumbling over the small girl. She smelled of rum and pipe smoke, "Why would you think something like that?"

Tears steadily fell on the counter, "Because I made him make that stupid promise," she sniffed, "I said, 'you better come back! Even if it kills you!'" She sunk her head into her hands, shaking, "And it did! It really did!"

"Baby," Shera, in her massive arms, lifted the tiny girl from the stool and rocked her back and forth, "It's not your fault, sweetheart, don't say things like that." Elaina heard nothing of it though, for her cries were so loud and anguished that the entire pub had awoken to see where the wails were coming from . . .

**Present Day, Beneath Uru'baen**

Tears rolled down her eyes, "I have to go to him! I. . . I can't let that happen again!" She stood so quickly that the chair flew back, hitting the wall with a loud crack. She began to run out the door when a strong hand shackled her wrist, "Unhand me!"

"Think about this!" Lian screamed, his eyes afire, "This place is littered with hidden sinkholes and caverns, not to mention the endless corridors and tunnels that you could get vanish into and never come out!" He squeezed her wrist, lightly to avoid hurting her, "And even if you did make it out, what would happen when you went storming into the castle, eh? You'd be put to death for treason, or worse! Then what would you do, for this plan will only give Murtagh more pain."

She scowled, "I have to do something."

"Then let us help you," Lian said, smiling warmly, "Daren has proven his worth, and there are a few people I've been wanting to meet anyway. What say you; shall we become a group?"

Daren cocked his head slightly, "Where would we go? No one could help us, so why don't we just go?" Lian rolled his eyes, causing the young boy to turn red with rage, "What? You have a better idea?"

Lian sighed, "Murtagh had friends before meeting you two, believe it or not, the problem is they're all in Surda."

"Surda . . .?" Elaina gasped, "You mean the Varden! Would they, I mean, are you sure they would help Murtagh?" She looked down, "Thorn's told me so much about what they were like, and if the dwarves have such a powerful influence in their group, then they would never consider helping Murtagh or Thorn again." She frowned when she remembered the graveness and sorrow of the dragon's voice when he'd told her the tale of how they'd struck down the dwarf king.

Laughing, Lian said, "You two really are dense sometimes," he quickly drew back as Elaina's fist was in the air, "I was only kidding. Gee, for a princess you're very violent." She continued to scowl at him, "Well, anyway, it's not just the Varden that I was talking about. There is his brother, Eragon, and if that doesn't work then I could ask the elves for help."

"The elves?" Elaina asked, sarcastically, "What good would the elves do? They hide in their forests, refusing to leave even to help the entire continent! What makes you think they'll even _consider_ helping us?"

"Trust me," he said, a dangerous glint in his eye, "they will listen." He clapped his hands, putting on a cheerier face, "Now then; time to pack! Bring only what you need, and all the money that you have; we'll need it if we expect to buy horses." Before they could say anything, the blond haired half-elf ran pranced out of the room, whistling some tune that neither Daren or Elaina recognized.

Daren walked beside her, "Are you sure we should trust him?"

"He hasn't hurt us so far," Elaina shrugged, "and I don't think he's one of Galbatorix's men, or else Murtagh and Thorn would've already been taken back." She sighed, "Then again, we could both be totally wrong and spiraling towards a horrible and painful death." She saw that the boy's face had gone pale, "I was joking! I'm sorry--"

"Elaina?"

"Eh?"

He looked at her, determination fixed upon his face, "You don't have to worry about Murtagh, I'll make sure you see him again." He bent to one knee, "I swear, my princess, I will reunite you with him _and _his dragon; both alive and well."

"Daren, please," she felt awkward, seeing the boy bow like that, "I'm not a princess, and I know we'll find Murtagh!" She smiled, "See? I'm not worried at all!" He raised an unsure eyebrow, then lifted himself from the ground, nodding. Once he was out of sight, she sighed and mumbled underneath her breath, "I'm not worried at all, right?" The sound of a single tear echoed through the empty room, followed by her hurried footsteps.

**Castle Gates, Uru'baen**

Murtagh sighed, sliding off of Thorn's back. His scar was burning terribly, and fear gripped him as he realized he had no way of protecting Elaina and Daren once Galbatorix ripped into his mind. The castle casted a dark shadow over him, as if the entire building were ready to pounce upon him. The trees swayed in the eerie silence of the empty yard, not a soul was to be seen. Thorn gently nudged him in the back, urging him on. He smiled weakly, _Lian would know to get those two away, right?_

_He seems like a bright enough fellow, _Thorn said, gravely, _but I wouldn't worry about that right now; he comes._

A few moments later Murtagh noticed him, the sound of his cursing voice and heavy footfalls echoing behind what remained of the wooden door. Soon he saw the man round the corner and froze. Galbatorix's eyes were like frozen daggers, stabbing into his very soul. A horrible grimace disfigured his face as he quickened his pace, muttering something that Murtagh couldn't hear.

Whatever was said caused a wave of pain to wash over him, so great that he couldn't stop it before it reached Thorn. In a shared howl of pain, both dragon and Rider fell to the ground, unable to move. Every muscle in his body felt as though it were being ripped apart into individual strands, his bones feeling like they were bursting from the inside. Tears gathered in his eyes, and his voice blocked out anything else, even Thorn's intense roars. Weakly, he reached out a hand, _Thorn . . ._

He screamed; a metal-clad boot crashing down on his outstretched hand. He cursed, unable to move his head to look at his attacker. He didn't have to worry about that for long, as Galbatorix lifted him into the air, crushing his wrist in his unhuman grasp. A farel snarl stared back at Murtagh as Galbatorix held him in the air, "How _dare_ you show your face to me! Do you realize what you've done?" Murtagh said nothing, receiving a gloved slap across his jaw. He heard it crack, "One of my most valuable men is now dead, thanks to that stupid whore and whoever helped her, not to mention the Ra'zac are furious with me for the stunt you pulled!" He slammed the man on the ground, "And to make matters worse, the third dragon egg has gone missing! Mind explaining that for me?"

Blood swirled inside of his mouth, "I won't . . . betray them. . ."

"You don't have a choice!" Cold hands wrapped themselves around his cranium, the felling of millions of tiny probes assaulting his mind caused him to loose all feeling in his legs. Galbatorix ripped through his memories mercilessly, growing ever more violent with each passing screen. Suddenly, it all stopped, and Murtagh gasped for breath. He couldn't speak, his eyes traveling to the red beast that lay before him. A chill shook his body, sending waves of pain through his sore muscles, as Galbatorix leaned close to his ear and whispered gently, "I know you want to protect them . . ."

_N-no. . .! That voice. . ._ Already he could feel the entrancing words wrap themselves around his mind, shackling him in a false sense of safety. Galbatorix grinned, feeling Murtagh's mind give way, "Isn't it safer if for both Eragon _and _Elaina if you brought them to me? Think about it; if Eragon and Saphira were here, then they would never have to worry about fighting or dangers again. And Elaina, why," he smiled gently, his poisoned words sailing gently into Murtagh's ears, "You two could finally be together in peace! What would the public, or he Varden, do if they found out the truth about her? Why," he frowned, "they'd expect such things from that girl as to drive her insane!"

His eyes were glazed over, the only thing echoing in his mind were Galbatorix's words. _Something about this. . . but he seems so wise and kind. . ._ He shook his head, "Eragon would never come with me. . ."

"People, or some people I should say, refuse to allow others to help. You know of his pride," he rolled his eyes, "and his arrogance." He smiled as he watched the young man struggle with his words.

Murtagh shook his head once more, then said, "You're right; my brother needs some freedom. But are you sure Elaina would like it here?"

Galbatorix smiled warmly, helping Murtagh from the ground. He patted him on the back, "Why, with such a man as you looking out for her, she'd be safe even amongst an army of Urgals." Murtagh smiled back, his mind completely lost. Galbatorix grinned, pleased with his work, "Now, where are you going to go?"

"Surda," Murtagh mounted Thorn, the dragon's eyes taking on a similar look to his Rider's, "if Eragon won't help himself then I'll just knock some sense into him."

"And Elaina?"

For a moment Murtagh grimmaced, and Galbatorix thought that his spell had waned. Then the boy shrugged, "She won't like coming back, but it's for her own good." He scowled, "I don't trust that Lian character anyway." Recieving a confirming knod from their king, Murtagh and Thorn took off towards the south, speeding away so quickly that they were soon just a speck in the sky.


	17. Baseborn Royalty

**Pale Hope**

**by Namine3419**

**Chapter Seventeen: Baseborn Royalty**

**Reviewers: Wow, this is a long one. I like this chapter, but well, I could be totally wrong and it could suck horribly! Hurray! Well, I hope you guys do like it, and I can't wait for your reviews!****  
**

Eragon, pacing back and forth in his room, tried to find something to occupy his time. Since the wedding, Roran and Katrina had been like ghosts, staying to themselves and only leaving their courters to look for a new home. Garrow had grown immensely in the short time that he'd hatched. The young dragon was already the size of one of the large dogs inside of Aberon's kennel. He pranced around with a dignant air as the other animals backed away from him in their fear.

Nasuada had been busy with repairing the damages done by the last battle, and now trying to find even more ways to raise money for the Varden. However, now that a fourth of the Varden was occupied by the remnants of Carvahall, she was finding it hard to keep everyone under her jurisdiction. She became very irritible during the day, and refused to let anyone in her study, save Jormundur, Jeod, and Arya. She was still rather angry that Eragon and Roran had left without consulting her first.

After a few hours of endless pacing, boredom bested him and Eragon went for a walk in the castle gardens. The day went by slowly, and the smell of rain was thick upon the evening air. The humidity of the atmosphere left Eragon to walk around in a loosely-fitting shirt and plain leather breeches; it was to hot to wear armor. He'd thought of carrying a sword, but anything of human or dwarf make would break at his newly found strength, so he kept to the bow that Izlanzadi had sung for him. He sighed as a cool raindrop fell onto his forehead, cooling his burning brow. The trees swayed in the wind of the upcoming storm.

"Hello, brother."

Spinning on his heel, Eragon turned and met with the stone-cold face of his brother, Murtagh. His heart sank as he heard the heartlessness in Murtagh's words; something was very wrong. Warily, Eragon tensed, keeping an eye on the elder Rider, "What are you doing here, Murtagh? I thought you went back to--"

"Uru'baen? Yes," he smirked, a glint of madness tracing his lips, "I was there briefly, but was reminded of how foolish I was." He smiled warmly, "And you, little brother." He reached out a hand, dull eyes staring into that of Eragon's, "Stop this, Eragon, you know that everything would be much better if you came with me. Think about it, you and Saphira would be safe, there would be no need for anymore war, once you've joined us, and maybe we can find Saphira a mate!"

"Your mind has been poisoned!" Eragon cried, "Think about what you're saying, Murtagh! These words do not come from you, but out of Galbatorix's black mouth!"

The glee that was once upon Murtagh's face vanished into a cold scowl, "So be it." The sound of steel scraping against leather flashed past his ears, and Murtagh leaped forward, Za'roc raised high. Eragon rolled, jumped forward, and scrambled up a tree. He was in no position for close-courters combat, his bow hanging lightly across his back. Murtagh didn't wait to see what happened next. With inhuman strength he lashed out at the trunk of the tree, splinters flying everywhere. Eragon yelped and leaped, just before the tree crashed to the ground.

_Eragon! Eragon, are you alright?! _ Saphira, her voice both urgent and distracted, rushed through their link.

_Saphira!_ Eragon rolled, dodging an uppercut from Za'roc's red blade, _where are you? I need your help!_

A shot of blazing pain pasted through their link, _I'm sorry, but Thorn has me pinned! Where did they come from?!_

_I don't . . ._ Murtagh stabbed to Eragon's left, freezing for a moment. Eragon, on quick feet, lept on top of the blade, balancing on its deadly edge.

Murtagh grinned, then dropped the hilt of the sword. Eragon fell quickly, but was caught by the throat before his feet even touched the ground. The distant sound of the two dragons' battle clashed through the night, an ominous song that rang in Eragon's ears. He struggled, kicked, and pried at Murtagh's grip, but couldn't break free; he was utterly trapped. Struggling to form the words, Eragon pleaded, "Murtagh, please. . . This. . . this isn't you. . .!" Dots were dancing in front of his eyes.

"You're wrong again, brother," he said, "this _is _me now, and nothing will change it. I made a mistake by letting you go the first time," he tightened his grip, "I will not make the same mistake again."

Darkness edged around Eragon's eyes, and panic rushed through his mind. On the brink of consciousness, Eragon stared into his brother's face, unable to use magic. Then, out of nowhere, a green light shattered across Murtagh's back. The young man screamed in agony as the green sparks danced across his torso and traveled up his throat. Eragon fell to the ground, gasping for breath, as Murtagh soon followed him. As the elder hit the ground, Eragon noticed his eyes clearing up. Confusion consumed the green pools, soon filled with utter sorrow, "I'm. . . I'm sorry. . . Erago. . ." He closed his eyes; unconscious.

"Eragon!" Looking up, he saw Arya, followed closely by Roran, rushing down the garden path. She fell to the ground, catching him in her arms, "Are you alright? Eragon, look at me!"

He gave her a weak smile, then reached out with his mind, _Saphira, can you hear me?_

There was a long pause, then, _yes._ Sadness poured into Eragon's mind, and when he asked her what happened, she cried, _I. . . Thorn is hurt, very badly. He needs help. _

_Don't worry, I'll be there in a--_his eyes closed, and he passed out into Arya's arms, the smell of crushed pine needles consuming his mind.

**Melian**

_Something's wrong_. A cold pit had suddenly formed in Elaina's heart, and she pulled back on her horse's reigns. The wind tossed her hair and the smell of fresh rain cleared her mind. She sighed, shaking her head, _this is silly. They're perfectly fine._

"My lady?" Daren, riding up on his speckled gray mare, looked across to her with concern, "Is everything alright? Why have you stopped?"

"Nothing," she smiled weakly, "I'm just weary, is all."

Lian laughed lightly, "Yes, well, if we expect to be in Surda within the week, I suggest we hurry." Behind his blue eyes was something of great gravity that Elaina couldn't place. The half-elf was hiding something, but refused to tell his secret. He became very distant over the past few days, as if he were growing nervous. He eyed them suspiciously, "What?"

"Enough of your lies, Lian," Elaina rode in front of him, "why is it that you are so confident the Varden and elves will help you? Are you so great an ally that you demand such respect?" She frowned, "I know from experience that no one trusts so easily without purpose."

He sighed, "I guess we aren't going to make any progress otherwise." Lian's eyes grew evermore distant as he gazed up into the sky, "It is my lineage that demands such respect. Have you ever heard the tale of Brom the Rider?"

Elaina stared blankly, but Daren lit up, "You mean _the_ Brom? The one that struck down Morzan?!" He laughed, "And what of him? You're not telling us that he's your father--?" Lian gave him a flat look, "You can't be serious."

He laughed nervously, "Yes, I know; hard to believe. But if you knew his tale you would not find it so. You see, Brom was destined to fail at everything, save killing Morzan, which is why he and my mother could never be." He paused, sighing sadly, "My mother was an elf of high rank, or rather, _extremely_ high rank, I should say."

"Islanzadi?" Everyone stared at Elaina as she spoke the foreign name, "I read about her in the library at the castle; the elf-queen?"

Lian nodded slowly, "I suppose, since she is the only one who can bestow the yawe to anyone, human, dwarf, or elf."

"So then why do you live here, instead of Ellesmera?" Daren asked, scratching his head. This was all rather much for him.

"I guess it was because my mother wished to hide me," he said, frowning, "after Brom left Ellesmera, my mother found out that she was pregnant. She knew that the other elves would never accept a half-breed, and hoped that maybe my elven blood would go unnoticed in the human world. Thus, she sent my half-sister to deliver me to the nearest human town, entrusting me to local members of the Varden."

"I'm so sorry," Elaina sighed, "It must have been awful."

He smiled sweetly, "It is no different then what happened to you, dear princess." Lian laughed, his eyes lighting up once more, "We have more in common then we thought, eh?" He shrugged, noticing that Daren wanted him to continue, "Well, I guess I grew up helping the Varden as best I could, yet never actually met any of the head members. I was, I must admit, afraid to meet my father after living so long without him, and I knew that I would only bother him further with my appearance, so I stayed unknown." He clenched his fist, "That is, until now. I feel like I have a major role to play in this act, and I intend to act it out. Even if that means helping a moron such as Murtagh."

Elaina smiled, "Thank you." They were silent for a moment, then she smirked and spurred her horse, sending the beast flying. The men stared after her as she bolted, "Come on! I'll beat both of you if you just stay back staring!" Both men frowned, then urged their horses forward, gaining on her fast.

It was well into the night by the time they'd reached the Alagesia-Sudian border. Crickets were heard in the distance, playing their cheerful song as nightingales sailed along the clouds, the starry night a background to their glowing white wings. Mountains loomed behind them, dark lines against an endless horizon and the massive plains of the Alagesian countryside swayed and whispered with the night air. Lian held up his hand, "Let's rest here for tonight."

Elaina nodded, giggling quietly as she saw Daren asleep in his saddle. She reached for the mare's reigns and stopped the beast, allowing Lian to remove him from its back. As she dismounted, a terrible pain in her chest erupted, as if the claws of a wolf had torn into her breast. She screamed, falling forward onto her horse, holding the bridal for support. Looking down, Elaina stared completely puzzled at her shirt; there was no blood to be seen. Then, as quickly as it had come, the pain subsided, and she stood straight. Lian grabbed her shoulders, making sure to catch her should she fall, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

She nodded weakly, "I'm fine, but," she bit her lip, "something is very wrong. I have this horrible sinking feeling that someone is hurt, very badly."

"Your tattoo," he sat her down, "it was glowing a bright white, and I thought one of the heads was red." He examined her eyes, then checked her pulse, "What do you think that means?"

She squirmed under his touch, "I think, I think Thorn may be in trouble."

"Then we have no time to rest," Lian stood, walking towards Daren, "help me get him back onto his horse; he won't wake." They lifted the boy onto the saddle, securing him tightly so he wouldn't fall. Then, Elaina ran back to her saddle bag, removing a thick blanket. Lian raised an eyebrow, "What's that for?"

She wrapped the cloth around Daren's shoulders, "It'll rain soon. I don't want him to get sick."

"What? It's not going to--" Lian was cut short as a downpour drowned out his words, "rain." Elaina laughed again and mounted her horse, grabbed Daren's beast, and followed Lian as the went further past the boarder.

**Aberon**

Eragon stirred, his head throbbed terribly. He saw a faint glow beyond his eyelids, and slowly opened them to see Angela, the herbalist and witch, smiling down at him. Her brown curls bounced as she laughed, "Good, you're alright," then her eyebrows slanted and she screamed, "do you have any idea how worried we were?! Why didn't you contact anyone that you were being attacked?! You have allies here, you know!"

"Sorry," he croaked, his throat very sore. Grimacing, he lifted himself from the bed slowly, "Where is everyone? Is Saphira alright?"

"Just a few scratches, and Arya and Roran are fine." Her face grew dark, "Eragon, you need to know; Murtagh is in a cell right now and we've already drugged him. As for Thorn," she sighed, "healers are doing their best, but we don't know enough about dragon anatomy to heal this wound correctly. So all we've done is clean his wound and bandage it."

"Where is he," Eragon stood, grabbing his shirt, "in the garden?"

"Are you sure you can handle this now?" Angela asked, frowning. Eragon nodded, and she shrugged, "Well, don't kill yourself. He's in front of the castle; Saphira is watching over him." As he opened the door she said, "Eragon."

"Yes?" He said, stepping outside.

"Be careful." He closed the door behind himself.

Once he was out of earshot, Eragon bolted down the hallway. He was worried that someone might have made a terrible mistake with the healing, and done more damage than good. Saphira blocked him out as he tried to contact her, a stream of frustrated cursing flowing form his mouth. He slid past a sharp corner, flew down a flight of stairs, and reached the main door, panting heavily.

Before he opened the door, he heard a gently humming. The voice was familiar, and he frowned sadly, _Saphira, are you okay?_ She didn't answer, and he opened the door. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Eragon saw Saphira, laying her head across Thorn's neck, gigantic tears falling from her eyes. She was humming a tune that Eragon would never hope to understand, wagging her tail back and forth to keep her beat. Thorn was flat on the ground, his eyes frantically darting from one edge to the other underneath closed lids. Blood had soaken through the bandages and stained the stone walkway.

Eragon stepped forward quietly, then spoke, "Saphira?"

Her eyes opened and her head darted up. She turned her head, sad blue eyes resting on his tiny person, _Eragon. . ._

_It's alright; can you wake him? _He bowed his head, trying to see if the wound was touching the ground, _I need to get to his cuts._

She nudged the other dragon lightly, trying to wake him. Thorn growled softly but did not stir, _I'll lift his head for you._ Gently, she slid her head underneath Thorn's neck, lifting it high enough to expose the wound. It was bleeding horribly, and a sweet, sickening smell emitted from the cut. She frowned, _he isn't doing well._

_He'll be fine in a moment, _Eragon reassured her, placing a hand on the warm cloth. Concentrating, Eragon visualized the muscles strewn through the dragon's torso, how he should mend them, and on the tiny wall that shielded the magic. Breaking through, he spoke, "Weise heil." His palm glowed blue, and soon cerulean sparks were dancing across the open wound. Thorn shuddered as the magic tied and connected broken muscle and scale, lost blood being replaced by new cells. It took him twenty minutes to complete his work, but he backed away with a satisfied smile.

Growling, Thorn opened one eye, Eragon reflecting in the huge yellow orb. He blinked twice, then removed his head from Saphira's and stared at him, _I guess we failed at capturing you._

_I guess you did, _Eragon smiled, patting the dragon lightly, _how do you feel?_

_Better than I did before I arrived here, _he said weakly. Standing, he scanned around the area and asked, _Where's Murtagh? _Eragon frowned, _oh._

_I'm sorry; I wasn't conscious when they--_

_It's alright,_ Thorn sighed, _I expected as much when I lost contact with him. Has he, _he looked down, _has his mind cleared?_

Eragon sighed, _I'm not sure._

**Aberon, Prison Cell**

It sounded as if a beehive was between his ears as Murtagh awoke in a dark, cold room. He tried to concentrate on where he was, but the memories refused to resurface, and he was unable to contact Thorn. _They must've drugged me,_ he thought, bringing his legs up to his chin. As he rocked, back and forth, the cot that he was sleeping on creeked and moaned under his weight, the high pitched squeaking piercing his ears.

It seemed like hours had passed as he just sat there, not really sure what was going to happen next. Then he heard a door opening in the distance, and the sound of quick, heavy footsteps stomping down the hallway. Murtagh stared through the bars, trying to keep his eyes from closing. Soon, a tiny shape formed around the corner, his breath coming in heavy gasps. The tiny man's face caught the light, and Murtagh sighed; it was Orik. He glared at him like a rabid beast, "I've come to recive your payment."

His head lolled, "Yes, my debt to you." His words were cold, "I guess you would want to fight me now, drugged and helpless as I am. Tell me, Orik," he smirked darkly, "would Hothgar find this honorable?"

"You demon!" Orik gripped the bars, his knuckles white, "I don't know why Arya spared your life, but I will leave you dead at my feet!"

He was about to open the door when someone rushed in. It was an elderly man, the hair atop his head gone, "Orik, enough!"

He growled, "You would protect this villian, Jeod?"

"As long as he is in that cell, he is untouchable. If you want to fight him, wait until he's able to." His words were iron. Orik hesitated, then grunted and spun on his heel. Jeod sighed, then turned his head and faced Murtagh, "Are you alright?" He didn't answer. Murtagh kept his eyes to the floor, staring moodily at the tiles. He knew his words were cruel, but he could not allow any of the Varden to be his allies; they were his enemies now, not friends. His head rose and he noticed the man was laughing.

He frowned, "What? Why are you laughing?"

"You remind me of someone," he said shortly, then he smiled, "get some sleep; it'll clear your head."

"Why would you--?"

"Because I know that you can be trusted." He turned and walked away, leaving Murtagh to brood in the dark cell.


	18. A Revenge Not So Sweet

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Eighteen: A Revenge Not So Sweet**

**Reviewers: Hurray reviews! They make me very happy indeed. I'm so glad you guys like my story, and I love hearing your opinions on it. I hope I've been getting better at my spelling, and I'm sorry if some bits are confusing; I'll try to make them more clear. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter too, and I'll update as soon as I can!**

**Blah: I think I'm going to go crazy before the next Eragon book releases. I need it so badly!!****  
**

Murtagh woke with a start, a cold sweat covering his forehead. His eyes darted back and forth across the room, his mind frantically trying to remember where he was. Images passed through his mind and he sighed; he was in a cell somewhere in Aberon. He sat up and stretched, glad that the drug had finally worn off. Leaning back on the stone wall, Murtagh tried to contact Thorn, but received no answer. _Thorn, _he asked again, this time very worried, _where are you?_

Millions of horrible visions of what had befallen his friend flashed through his thoughts, and his heart grew quicker and quicker. By this time he was screaming the dragon's name, causing himself to become dizzy, and fall onto his pillow. As he lay their, breathing heavily, a small tendril of thought traced by his mind. Alert again, Murtagh shot up, _Thorn?_

_Yes, I'm here, _he said grumpily, _and I was just falling to sleep until you started yelling at me. _

Murtagh frowned, _excuse me for being worried!_

_It's alright, _Thorn said jokingly, _how are you feeling?_

_Horrible,_ he snapped, _is Saphira alright? The last thing I remember from your battle was her underneath your claws, then someone attacked me from behind._

_I. . ._ He hesitated, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, _I think I need more training._

A jolt of pain shout through their link and burst across Murtagh's chest, _are you alright? What happened?_

Thorn was quiet for a while, but replied warily, _I lost. When I lost contact with you, I lost my concentration and Saphira pushed me off of her. Amazing how strong she is!_ He felt Murtagh laughing at him, then continued hurriedly, _Well, anyway, I was thrust onto my back, unable to roll upright in time to completely avoid her next attack. The only thing I saw were deathly sharp talons lashing out at me, then, well, I don't remember what happened next._

_Are you sure you're okay?_

_I'm fine. Eragon healed me._

_Oh, he did?_ Guilt tugged at his mind, and he severed the connection with Thorn before the dragon could sense it. He shook his head, "After all I've done to him, he still wants to help us." The younger Rider had never made much sense to him; he was to kind. In his experience, no one was that thoughtful to another person, especially if they had tried to capture them, twice. His mind quickly turned to thoughts of Elaina, and he smiled, _she's just like him._

Hours seemed to pass in the tiny, dark room as Murtagh sat, paced, and thought of how to get out of his cell. He wasn't going to go anywhere, he just wanted to make sure Thorn was alright. He tried to open the lock with magic, but found that someone had placed a barrier on the lock pad, sending a small jolt through his body whenever he tried to open the mechanism. Then he thought that he would take advantage of the first person to bring him a meal, but quickly discarded that idea, since he'd been asleep when the soldier bringing his breakfast had come during his sleep. Frustrated, he fell to the floor, gripping one of the iron bars. His eyes slowly ran down the length of the bar, and he smirked. Surrounding both the top and the bottom, holding the iron in place, was nothing but pure stone. Reaching for the magic, he said, "Jierda du stenr!"

Loud cracks reverberated off the walls as the stone began to give way. Bits and pieces of gray rock fell from above, crashing down by his feet. The bars fell to the ground, nothing to hold them back, and clanged loudly on the stone floor. With a cocky air, Murtagh stepped out of the hole he'd created, smiling pleasantly. He was walking down the corridor when he heard footsteps rushing above him. He sighed as the door burst open, blinding him with the bright light of the next room. One of the soldiers held a spear at his chest, his face pale, "How did you get out?"

Murtagh shrugged, "Why don't you go look?"

Five more men showed up, followed by a dwarf fully clothed in armor. Murtagh instantly recognized the seven stars of Orik's house. The dwarf growled, then laughed harshly, "Good, you're well again. Meet me in the practice yards," he grunted, "they will be turned into your grave."

One of the soldiers turned to the small man, "Sir Orik, are you sure we should just--"

"If he escapes, then the punishment will fall on my shoulders alone. Now, let him pass." Cool, hateful eyes rested on Murtagh, "You'll find your sword in the closet beside this door."

Murtagh nodded, then watched as the dwarf, followed slowly by the soldiers. _You can't stay out of trouble, can you?_

_You were listening to that? _Murtagh sighed as he felt Thorn laughing, _it isn't funny. . . And you should be resting!_

_I'm alrigh--_ A burning sensation passed through their link, _ow._

_Yes, you're alright._

Quickly changing the subject, Thorn asked, _What are you going to do? You know Orik is no match for you. And if Eragon or the others find out that you two fought, both of you would be in serious trouble._

_I know, but,_ he sighed, _I deserve to give Orik his revenge. I will face him, though I wish I did not have to._

_Should I tell Eragon and the others?_

He paused, running his fingers through his hair, _Yes. I don't want them to be caught off guard should I really hurt him._

_Or if you get hurt, _Thorn quickly added.

_Yes, _he laughed, _that too._

**Lithgow Territory, A Few Miles from Aberon**

Fighting to keep her eyes open, Elaina stared out over the blank horizon. Her lips were terribly chapped, the wind hot and harsh against her skin. The sun had risen high above their heads, and in the treeless plains of Surda there was no reprieve from its rays. Her head lay across the neck of her horse, and she felt herself slowly drifting to sleep.

She felt a sudden jerk and her eyes popped open. Lian had forced her horse to stop, and she rose her head to see what was the matter. An entire row of heavily armed soldiers blocked their path, eyes resting on them like hawks. Lian smiled, waving his hand, "Hello friends!" He called out kindly, "May we pass through? My companions and I are quite tired and--"

"What business do you have in Aberon?" A soldier asked, a harsh note in his voice.

"We are looking for a friend of ours," Lian replied, "we lost contact with him after the battle."

"You're a horrible liar, Lian." A feminine voice rang out, full of mirth. Lian smiled widely as a young woman with a head full of brown curls emerged from behind the ranks. A small boy was beside her, his raven hair soaking in the merciless rays of the sun. He smiled, revealing a mouthful of sharp, pointy teeth. She crossed her arms and winked, "Why, I haven't seen you since you were Solembum's size; how are you Lian?"

"Angela!" He laughed, "You look as radiant as ever. How on earth did you know we were coming?"

"I saw you in my readings," she stated flatly, "honestly, Lian, I thought you were brighter than that?" Her dark brown eyes drifted from the half-elf to Daren, then quickly to Elaina. She smiled warmly, causing Elaina to shift uncomfortably, "And this one is?"

"I'll tell you once we get to Aberon," Lian said stubbornly, "we've been traveling for days; we're tired! I surely didn't travel some five-hundred miles just to be shunned once I reached the front door of my friends."

Angela tipped her head back and laughed, brown curls bouncing. Then she saw that the soldiers were still pointing their weapons at her friend, "What are you doing? Put those things down, you'll kill someone!" As the soldiers shrank away from her shouting, Lian signaled to the others that it was alright to move forward. As they did, the small boy with inhuman speed, leapt from the ground and landed on the back of Elaina's horse.

He smiled again, _Hello, daughter of Angrenost._

_How did you--? _She gasped, _You can talk to me through your thoughts! How on earth does someone so young know that ability?_

_Looks can be deceiving, _he said shortly, _now, answer my question; why are you here?_

She stared sadly at the city that sparkled in the distance, _To see someone again._

Solembum laughed heartily, _Then be forewarned, reveal your identity to no one. Many things will be expected from the granddaughter of the first Angrenost, things that you are not ready to fullfill._

_I'll keep that in mind. _She said, smirking. It would be quite easy to keep her identity hidden, since she didn't fully understand it yet either. Daren looked back at her and she waved, steering her horse behind Lian's.

**Aberon Castle**

Eragon rushed down the hallway, heading as quickly as his legs could carry him towards the tourney yards. He prayed that they hadn't begun yet, hoping against hope that he could prevent the fight. As he rounded another corner, he could hear light footsteps racing down the same hallway. Catching up to his pace, Arya gave him an anxious glance, "Do you think they've started yet?"

"Let's hope not," he gasped, "darn that dragon! Why didn't he tell us earlier?!"

Arya shook her head, "Because then, we would've stopped them."

"Good point." They could hear cheering in the distance and quickened their pace. Soon they were outside, rushing through the massive crowed that had gathered. Eragon quickly found Roran, Garrow's scales bright in the evening sun. He called out, and Roran motioned them to come forward. Eragon, out of breath, asked, "What's happening?"

"Madness," he glared at the tourney grounds, "Orik should know this is foolishness."

Eragon nodded, turning his head towards the battle ground. The dwarf brandished a gigantic war axe, the blade chipped from repeated use. With a blood-lusted yell, Orik charged at Murtagh, who had barely any armor on. His face was emotionless, yet his eyes held a sad gleam. As the axe came sailing towards his head, he lifted Zar'roc, holding Orik's weapon in place. With a howl, the dwarf jerked away, breaking Murtagh's stance. Seeing the opening, he swung the axe at Murtagh's stomach. Murtagh pivoted, danced behind the dwarf, and stood.

The dwarf was red faced, "Don't toy with me!" With lightening fast speed, the dwarf ducked down and swung his axe in a circle. Murtagh lept into the air, but was to slow, and felt the vicious bite of Orik's axe sink into his left ankle. He hit the ground, cursing. He saw a flash of light in the corner of his eye and rolled to the left, narrowly avoiding the dwarf's weapon.

Dust flew between them, giving him a second to heal himself. As he finished speaking the words, the dust parted, and Orik charged again. This time Murtagh flashed Zar'roc before his face, catching the glare of the sun. He blinded the dwarf momentarily, then stood. He didn't have much time to think, for Orik was swinging his war axe in a blind fury, not caring who or what it hit. Curses flew left and right out of the tiny man's mouth as Murtagh danced, ducked, and rolled away from the deadly blade.

Hours passed as the battle continued. Men and dwarf alike watched as axe met sword long into the night. The chilly, Surdian night air forced many to return to their homes, while others gathered around each other for warmth. Katrina had heard where Roran and the others were, and she came with blankets and a few apples to hold them over; they'd been standing in the same spot since midday. Eragon held up his hand when Katrina handed him the fruit, his eyes fixed on the fight.

Orik was wearing down, his arms barely able to lift his weapon anymore. His breath came in short gasps, and sweat beaded on his face. He looked at Murtagh and glared, "You truly are. . . a. . . a demon," he roared, "only a monster could posses such strength!"

Murtagh, his face the same as it was when the battle had begun, went down on one knee, "You win, master dwarf." He placed Zar'roc before him, bowing his head, "If it wasn't for Galbatorix's training, I would have been dead long ago." He laughed sadly, "I have the scratches to prove it; Hrothgar would be proud."

"Do not speak as if you knew him!" Orik's face, disfigured by a mixture of emotions, cried out, "You are not dead, Argetlam, thus you have not paid for his blood." Tears were streaming down his eyes, "Why can I not kill you?"

Murtagh stared at him, his eyes clouded, when a voice rang out from the crowd, "That is enough!" Out of the masses of people emerged Nasuada, followed by a small girl with black hair. On her forehead shone a small, silver star, the same color as his gedwey ignasia. She smiled sweetly at him, dark, intellegent eyes seeming to seep into him. Nasuada frowned, "What is going on here? You're supposed to be in a cell." When no one gave her an answer, she glared at Orik, "I know this has something to do with you."

"I do what I wish and will when I want," he snapped, dusting himself off. He pointed a steel-clad finger at Murtagh, "This is not over, Argetlam, I will have my revenge."

Murtagh sighed, drooping his head. Standing, he felt a hand grip his shoulder. Eragon was standing next to him, frowning, "Why did you fight him? You know he is no match for you."

"As long as he has a thirst for blood, he will think of nothing else," he shook his head, "I thought that if I fought him once, he'd feel better." He stared after the storming dwarf and sighed, "I guess I was wrong."

"Seize him!" Nasuada demanded, soldiers circling Murtagh. Eragon was about to protest when she held up her hand to silence him, "Eragon, he is your enemy! There is no middle ground, you know this."

"If he were our enemy, then why didn't he kill Orik? He's not here to--"

"Enough!" All eyes fell on Murtagh as his voice echoed in the now empty tourny yard. He grimaced, "Eragon, I came here for the soul purpose of taking you back to Uru'baen, not to ally with you. If you continue to see me as a friend, then eventually, you will be brought before Galbatorix. I," he stared at the ground, his fists clenched in frustration, "I can't keep disobeying him." All was silent, then he sighed, "I am your enemy, and as such, you have a responsiblity to make sure I do not cause anymore harm."

Nasuada looked at him, tears forming in her eyes, "Yes, but we could keep you in a cell."

"Did you not see how easily it was for me to break free from that sad excuse of a prison?" He smirked, "Unless you have enough drugs to keep me under for my lifetime, then the only option you have is to kill me."

"No!" A shrill cry cut through the night, and a dark sillouette rushed through the soldiers, wrapping tiny arms around Murtagh's torso.

He felt warm tears falling onto his chest, and he looked down to find Elaina, clutching him with all her might. "Elaina," he said, shocked, "how did you. . .?"

"It doesn't matter," she cried, "please, don't think like that. There's still hope! Don't think that death is your only option," her head was buried into his chest, "please, if you died, I don't know what I would--" She broke down, a tiny fist banging against Murtagh's chest. Tears fell from her face, catching the moonlight.

As she sobbed, Murtagh wrapped his arms around her, for a moment forgetting where he was. Then he heard someone laugh, and glared at his younger brother. Eragon shrugged, "So, am I the only one in our family without someone to love?" Everyone laughed, Murtagh and Elaina turning red beneath the starlight.

**Uru'baen Castle**

Glass shattered as an Urgal flew from the Throne Room's window, Galbatorix cursing wildly. A vein protruded from his left temple, and he glared at the remaining hords, "Murtagh and his dragon have failed me again! For your sakes, you had best come back with all of them, or your lives will be filled with endless tourment and pain!" As they rushed out of the room, he reached out and contacted a nearby Ra'zac. A few minutes passed, and the dark beast appeared before him, quaking. It's eyes had been repaired by the castle healers, yet they held a sick glow from the scar tissue. Galbatorix smiled cruely, "My dear friend, would you like to get revenge for your eyes?"

"Yessss!" The beast howled, clicking its beak.

"Then go to Surda, find my Rider, and bring him here," a cruel smirk crossed his lips, "under any means necessary." Once he finished his sentence, the Ra'zac called for the Lethrblaka, and the distant clacks of its claws echoed through the hallway. With another shriek, the Ra'zac rushed out of the room, the sound of massive wingbeats quickly following it.


	19. Planning a Trip

**Pale Hope**

**by Namine3419**

**Chapter Nineteen: Planning a Trip**

**Reviewers: Oh, I'm so happy you guys liked that last chapter; I thought it wasn't very good. I got so many reviews for that one, and I was so happy I felt like my head was going to explode. Well, this chapter might actually be the worst of the two, since it's very mellow and nothing that important happens, but well, I could be wrong. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and I can't wait for your reviews.**

** Blah: I've had a fever twice this week; sucks much. :\  
I've also been working on concept art for my characters and such, since my friends are to lazy to actually read my story! Well, some are, not all...  
**

Murtagh sat outside of the conference hall, making sure to keep his eyes on the ground. They had left him in the hall to await their counsel, leaving him with two human guards and one dwarf. The tiny man had been glaring daggers at him the entire morning, and wasn't letting up. Murtagh had tried to provide polite conversation, but his only responses were grunts or more glares. Finally, he resolved to speaking with Thorn, who was watching Elaina at the moment.

The dragon allowed his fury to be fully felt, _I can't believe you would tell them to kill you! What, have you lost all hope of a solution?_ Murtagh didn't respond, so he kept ranting, _And you wouldn't only be resigning yourself to death! Next time, why don't you ask me if you plan on signing over our death warrant!_

"I'm sorry, okay?!" He screamed aloud, his face red. The guards looked at him as if he truly were mad, "I was talking to Thorn." They gave him skeptical looks, but soon disreguarded it and continued to stand alert. Murtagh ran his hands over his face, _Look, I don't want to be used as a tool any longer, and I don't know how else we can avoid this fate besides death. They attacks are getting stronger; sooner or later I'll go mad just by the pain inflicted by them. And, _he looked at his hands helplessly, _I can no longer protect you from them._

_I'm the one that is supposed to protect you, remember? _Thorn asked with an indignant air, _Just hold on for a little longer, all right? If not for me, then at least for Elaina._

_How is she?_ A mental image of the girl leaning against Thorn's chest flashed into his mind. She was clearly worried about something, her brow furrowed as she leaned back with her arms crossed. A petal from a nearby peach tree floated from its home and landed lightly on her nose, causing her to sneeze. A sigh escaped Murtagh's lips, _At least she's alright. Are you sure you can let her lean against your chest? It was hurt pretty badly._

_I'm fine; she's light. And besides, I already told you that Eragon healed me, and I haven't been flying or hunting since we landed here, so it's not as if the wounds have had a chance to reopen. _A dark humor laced his words, _I have more scars than you now._

_That's not funny,_ Murtagh stood, the door to the conference hall finally opening. In single-file the higher ups of the Varden poured from the opening, all of which gave him distasteful looks. He returned their stares, until he heard someone cough and noticed Eragon was walking out, mouthing the words, "don't do that". He rolled his eyes and awaited for Nasuada's appearance, glaring at one last noble after he'd made a praticularly rude comment.

Everyone seemed to stand straighter as Nasuada, followed again by that tiny girl, walked from the dark room. She looked tired, sweat visible upon her face and neck. Murtagh was glad that he was never expected to wear such silly garments in public. The rediculously large, blue velvet dress covered her arms and chest completely, the hem trailing the ground as she walked. She sighed, using a cloth to wipe away the sweat on her brow, "Murtagh, step forward." He did so, his head held high, "Since we do not have to power to hold you here forever, and because some see your death to be unfair," her eyes drifted to Eragon for a moment; Murtagh had to stifle a laugh, "you will be taken to Ellesmera and be held captive by the elves."

A bitter laugh escaped him before he could silence himself. He looked at the woman straight in the eye, "So, I'm to walk straight into the stronghold of the elves now, is that it? Do you find that wise?"

"It is our only option," she said cooly.

"What if I escape?"

"Then you will die."

"What if you miss?" He smirked dangerously, "And what of Thorn? You can't honestly believe that if I go mad again, you'll be able to restrain both me _and_ him. You could be placing many of your men, not to mention elves, in danger with this plan."

"We know this," Arya said, coming out from behind Eragon. She frowned, "I've never heard of a more impossible plan as this in my life, yet there is no other option. In Ellesmera, we have as many spellcasters as we do warriors, and we can place barriers around you that are powerful enough to keep you from even moving your fingers."

"That's not what I'm worried about; it's the trip itself that is dangerous. Think about it! Even if I don't go mad, there will be soldiers, not to mention the Ra'zac, out looking for me." He shot his finger at Eragon, shouting now, "And if he's with us, then there's a great possibility that Galbatorix himself will come! I know for a fact that the Surdian boarders are being watched, and a party as strange as ours would never go unnoticed."

"This plan will work." Murtagh stopped, looking around for the owner of the new woman's voice. He scanned the entire room until his eyes fell onto the little girl. She smirked, sending chills down his spine, "If you stay together, and do not look back, you will make it to the elven capital without trouble."

Murtagh's face grew dark, and he glared at Eragon, "This is your doing, isn't it?" Eragon stared at the ground sheepishly, "It is; this is that child you blessed. Why haven't you fixed your curse yet? This is cruel Eragon!"

"I was going to," Eragon snapped, "but she chose to stay like that for a little longer. I like it no more than you do, and I've already had my lectures on my stupidity, so I don't need one from you!"

A tiny cold hand gripped Murtagh's index finger, and the girl looked up at him, "Do not worry; we are similar, Rider, but my pain is wanted as of the moment." She smiled sweetly, "Soon both of our curses will be lifted."

Relief overcame him, and for a moment he thought that he would loose all composure. Murtagh quickly looked away, cursing, "This is a dark magic, Eragon, you would be wise to solve this problem soon."

He nodded, "I know."

"Is it settled then?" Nasuada asked shortly. She clapped her hands together, white teeth showing through a perfect smile, "Good, then you leave in three days. Of course, Eragon and Saphira will be accompaning you, along with Arya and Roran." Eragon gave her an alarmed look, "Roran needs to go for his training to begin." A sad note filled her voice, "Since Brom is no longer alive, then his training will begin in Ellesmera." Nasuada lifted her head, serious eyes staring into Murtagh's face, "I'm also allowing Orik to go with you."

"Why?!" Murtagh stepped forward, slashing out a hand, "If you do that, either he'll go mad, or kill me in my sleep!"

"I had no choice in the matter!" She shouted back, causing him to inch away slightly, "He is the leader of the dwarf clans as of now; I have no say in what he does."

Murtagh drew in a deep breath, letting it escape through his teeth, "And how will we move such a grand party through Alagesia without being noticed?"

Jeod spoke this time, a dangerous grin dancing across his lips, "Leave that to me." He laughed and faced Nasuada, "The Dragon Wing's repairs are complete; she can take us past Doru Areaba and then we can transverse the Spine." He crossed his arms, "We'll have to be careful of patrol ships, but if we can stay on course, we should be able to bypass any towns or cities that our under the Empire."

_Wouldn't it be simpler if I just flew you to the elves? _Thorn cut in, annoyed, _Honestly, by the time you get there, you'll have gray hair and I'll be to big for the boat!_

Murtagh shushed him and Eragon asked, "Would we," his voice cracked, "would we go through Carvahall?"

Nasuada frowned, "It is the only way, Eragon, I'm sorry." She looked to the other members of the council, "If there is nothing that any of you would like to add," she held up her hand, "save for petty insults and worthless information, then this meeting is over." As they exited the room, the soldiers grabbed Murtagh by his arms, already forcefully pulling him back to his cell, when she shouted after them, "Hold on! Let him go, I wish to speak with him." She dismissed them, after much trouble and having to convince them that Eragon was staying by her side, and looked at Murtagh with a sweet smile, "Even though our circumstances could have been better, I'm glad to see you again."

He sighed, "I thought you were the one always preaching that I was _the enemy_?"

"Okay, act that way then," she began to walk away, her head held high, "I guess you don't want to visit Thorn after all." She looked back at him to find a smile spread wide across his face, and she laughed as he took off down the hall, Eragon quickly going after him; he didn't know the way.

**Library, Aberon Castle**

Lian sat in a plush chair next to an open window, his blond hair sticking to his forehead. His heart raced as each second went by, his thumbs going a mile a minute in his nervous state. It had been years since he'd seen his sister, and even then he was far to young to remember her. _What if she hates me?_ He asked, picking a lock of his hair, _what if she can't stand to even look at me?_

He didn't have very much time to brood over it any longer, for Arya walked in. She held her head high, her face unreadable. She stared down at him past the tip of her nose, "Hello, brother."

"Arya," he said quietly, looking down. He was about to say something else when all words died in his mouth. He felt warm arms wrap themselves around his body, and he saw that Arya had rushed over and embraced him.

Her voice was cracking, full of emotion, "I'm so sorry; what mother did to you was horrible! I've never forgiven her for it!" She backed away, a tear in her eye, "I just hope that you can find it in yourself to forgive us."

Lian tired to smile confidently, but his voice was shaky and he looked awkward, "I have no reason to be angry with you. I'm just glad I have this opportunity to get to know you."

She frowned, taking a seat next to him, "Well, you see, I have to leave in three days. We're taking Murtagh to Ellesmera for holding, and I've been chosen to escort them there."

He laughed this time, slapping his knee, "I guess I'll be coming too." Arya frowned, "I know for a fact that if Murtagh is going, then Elaina will be following. I just want to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid and hurt that girl. Also, there's something I've been meaning to do for the longest time, whether mother approves of it or not."

A small smile crossed Arya's lips, "You remind me of Brom, before he carried all those troubles."

"I wish I could have met him." He looked out the window longingly.

"Why don't you talk to Eragon?" She asked, "He was with him before and as he died, I'm sure he'd love to talk about him to someone." Lian nodded, then continued talking to his long lost sister after so many years of never knowing each other.

**Castle Garden**

Elaina, making sure to keep off of Thorn's bandages, rested against his warmth, staring up at the clouds in front of the beautiful blue sky. Saphira rested her big blue head next to her leg, the warmth of her breath gently carressing her skin. For the first time in a long time, Elaina felt at peace. Being with the dragons made her feel that way, making her feel as if she belonged. She sighed contently as the day went by quietly, the wind causing her hair to dance on the warm, gentle breezes. She closed her eyes and listened to Thorn's heartbeat.

"You look comfortable." She jumped, looking up into deep green eyes. Murtagh was standing over her, his elbow resting on Thorn's side, a cocky smirk lighting up his eyes. He dodged a kick to his leg, "Why is it that every time I see you, you start hitting me?"

"Are they letting you stay out of the cells?"

Saphira's head lifted, Eragon appearing from behind Murtagh. Waving, he smiled and said, "Hello miss."

"Oh?" She stood, dusting off the dirt from her skirt, "And this is?"

Murtagh ran his fingers through his hair, "Elaina, this is Eragon, my little brother."

"Brother?" She asked, taking a closer look at the other boy, "But, he has pointed ears."

"That's a long story," Eragon sighed, reaching out a hand, "it's nice to meet you."

She smiled pleasantly, gripping his hand and shaking it, "Yes, you too." She looked to Saphira, "She's a beautiful beast, very intellegent too. Some of her riddles caused my head to swim!"

_You were talking to her? _Eragon asked, smirking.

_She's better company than most,_ she said innocently, flicking her tounge out of her mouth. She rested her head low enough to reach Murtagh's face, _So, what are they going to do with you?_

He shrugged, "We're going to Ellesmera in three days. You, Eragon, and the other's are escorting me there by the Dragon Wing, which I think will take far to long." He leaned up against Thorn's scales, crossing his arms, "But at least I won't be able to do any harm, save we get there without incident."

Elaina frowned, "I'm coming too, right?"

_Of course! _Thorn glared back at Murtagh, _when you're around, it's much easier to make fun of this one._

Elaina, Saphira, and Eragon laughed as the two stared each other down. Rolling his eyes, Eragon tapped Saphira on the side, saying, "Let's leave these two to work it out. Thorn, would you like to come with us?"

_Is there food involved? _The dragon looked at his growling stomach.

He laughed, "Yes, that's where we were going." He turned and waved at Murtagh as the two dragon's continued on, "I'll come back for you later. Don't let anyone know I left you alone, okay? I'll be in more trouble than you." Murtagh nodded and Eragon disappeared among the dragons.

"You're brother seems nice," Elaina said, smiling. She laughed when Murtagh made a sour face, "What? You don't like him?"

"That's not the problem," he looked at her, worry in his eyes, "I don't want to risk you falling into Galbatorix's hands. I was ordered to bring Eragon _and _you back to him, something I would rather die than actually do."

She crossed her arms, pouting, "What? You don't think I can take care of myself?" She winked, "I would follow you even if you told me not to come, so you're just going to have to deal with it." She looked at her feet, blushing, "I missed you to much."

He grabbed her hands, resting his chin on the top of her head, "And I you. Alright, you can come along, but don't be mad if someone says that you have to stay here."

She looked up and kissed him lightly on the cheek, "They would have to throw me in a cell, gagged and bound before I allowed you to leave without me." Laughing, she quickly ran back into the castle, leaving Murtagh standing alone, his hand lightly touching the cheek that her lips had graced.


	20. Departure

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Twenty: Departure**

**Reviewers: Hurray you guys liked that chapter too! I'm so happy! You guys are probably getting annoyed at all my happiness, huh? Maybe I should stop talking and just let you guys read this next chapter. **

**Sorry they're getting shorter; I will make them longer in the future, just not much is happening at the moment. Sorry.****  
**

The day was horrible. Dark clouds covered the eastern seafront, distant rainfalls visible to the north. The wind blew mercilessly, causing the dragons to stay grounded as men from the Varden and Surda helped restock the _Dragon Wing._ The waves swirled and crashed into its sides like a starving animal, desparately clawing at the underbelly of its prey. A distant thunderclap shattered the last bit of peace Murtagh had in him, "This is madness! We can't set off in a storm like this."

Roran, who was helping him cart a particularly heavy barrel of water, shrugged, "This is nothing. Try sailing through a whirlpool half the size of a small city." He laughed as Murtagh's face grew the same color as Garrow's scales, "Don't worry," he slapped him in the back, "you'll get your sea-legs!"

The past three days were chaotic. Nothing was where it was supposed to be, it was hard to find good men to man the boat, and it was even harder to find all of the supplies the needed in three days. What made it worse, was there was rumor that a dispatchment of Urgals was heading south, directly towards Surdian lands, causing an even greater rush. Nasuada was barely seen through her visits back and forth between her counsel members and the king of Surda's office, Orrin. Arya was always with Lian, and for the first time Murtagh had seen a slight bit of happiness in her. He didn't ask to many questions, but it made him glad to see her relaxed finally. Eragon, Roran, and himself were busy helping the men of the Varden load up the cargo holds, while Elaina and Katrina packed their belongings and whatever the men wanted to bring along.

The dragons, however, were busy helping Garrow find his wings. The young dragon had grown enormously in the past few days, his height now that of a full grown warhorse. He had begun speaking two days before, and enjoyed talking to everyone he came into view with. Old men would look around, confused and afraid that they'd heard an alien voice reciting dwarf ballads inside their heads. Thorn thought the hatchling was hillarious, yet Saphira would scold them both and make Eragon and the other Riders apologize for them.

Rain now came down in a steady beat upon the wooden planks of the grand ship. The sails danced to the vicious, unruly music of the winds as sailors scrabbled up ropes and ladders to reach their posts. Roran had situated himself in the Crow's Nest, looking out at the horison through a looking glass. The golden sheen of the metal pipe was the only sign that the man even stood there, his form barely visible against the dark sky. Eragon and Katrina watched in horror as the man quickly jumped from his post, sliding down on the slick rope he'd tied around his waist, and landed safely on the deck. He recieved an earful of curses and shouts once they got to him, making him wish he would've stayed topside.

The docks were lined with the people of Carvahall, the Varden, and even a few curious Surdians. Some of the women were waving handkerchiefs as their husbands or sons moved about the boat, trying to find a better viewpoint. Murtagh was leaning against the railing, Elaina staring out into the distance beside him, when he heard a small voice calling out his name. He looked for a while and saw Daren, waving wildly next to a big woman and another boy his age. Elaina turned and smiled, "Go down there, you have time." She smiled at Daren and waved, "He said he wanted to ask you something important." Murtagh shrugged and ran down the plank, the boy meeting him halfway.

Daren smiled sheepishly, looking at the water that was pushing itself up between the boat and the docks, "Will you be alright?"

Murtagh placed a hand on the boys head, ruffling his hair, "That's not what you wanted to ask me, Daren." He smiled warmly, "I'm not going to see you again for a long time, so you'd better fess up."

Big but feminine hands fell on the boy's shoulders, and Murtagh looked up to see the face of an elderly woman, her eyes as hard as nails. She stared him straight in the eye, causing him to be slightly nervous, "I've asked this boy if he'd like to live with us, for however long he wants. He said that he has no family, save you and Elaina, and since you two seem to be going away, I thought we would care for him." She squeased his shoulders lightly, a small smile spreading across her face, "He's a sweet lad, and he would help ease some of the ache in my son, Nolfavrell's, heart."

"Is this what you want?" Murtagh asked, bending down to reach the boy's height. Daren nodded, tears seeming to form in his eyes. Murtagh smiled weakly, standing and facing the woman, "Alright, I don't see any problem with it, Mrs.--?"

"Brigit," she said shortly, "and thank you. I was expecting you to say no."

"Why would I--?" He stopped mid-sentece; he knew why. Sighing, he waved one more goodbye and headed to the plank. As one foot fell on the tiny bridge, he heard a small cry and felt tiny arms wrap around his waist. He hugged the boy back, "You have to be strong, Daren."

"I don't want you to go! What if they hurt you, or worse! Please, stay here. Please!" He was crying now, the eyes of the people around them burning into their backs.

Murtagh grinned, reaching into his boot. Holding out his hand, he placed a magnificent knife into the boy's shaking palms, "Tornac gave this to me when I was your age. He went away for some of the king's business. He told me 'you're a man now Murtagh; you'd best start acting like one!'. I was so mad when he said that, but I still didn't want him to go, so then he gave me this knife, and said that a part of himself would be in that blade." He wrapped the boys fingers around the decrotive leather sheath, "I don't need it now, I have enough to keep me alive, but maybe you can find some use for it?"

The boy sniffed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Then he looked Murtagh in the face, "I will," his voice was cracking, "goodbye, Murtagh."

"Goodbye, Daren." The boy hugged him once more, then dashed back to Brigit and Nolfavrell, showing the other boy his new knife.

Back on the ship, Eragon asked, "Will he be alright? He seemed pretty torn up."

Murtagh nodded, smiling, "He'll be fine. He's made of tougher stuff then you'd think."

"And what of you?" Murtagh answered his question with a series of laughes, walking back to where Elaina stood.

Trumpets sounded in the background, and soon the heartbeat of the ship could be felt through her wooden planks. Jeod stood at the head of the ship, the captin shouting orders at the few men that had agreed to man the posts. Cries and shouts from the people soon drowned out anything else, as the boat moved slowly out of the harbor. Two large splashes shook the gigantic vessel as Saphira and Thorn dived into the water, Garrow watching them from the deck. Soon they were completely opposite of the deck, the people slowly vanishing from the horizon.

Soon they were far from any signs of land, and the deck was eerily quiet, save for a few shouts and orders from the crew master. The rain had died down to a gentle drizzle, the winds blowing peacefully towards the north. Murtagh sat, his back against the side of the ship, holding his head between his legs. He was unaware of the footsteps that were creeping up beside him. Eragon crouched down, a warm cup in his hand, "Here," he said, reaching it his sea-sick brother, "drink this. The sailors said it would help you." Murtagh looked up, smelled the steamy liquid, and returned to his crouch, moaning. Eragon laughed, "Come on, let's get you below deck. Perhaps there you won't feel the effect of the ocean so much?"

**Below Deck, Dragon Wing**

Elaina was having one of the best times of her life. She hated that it was dark and rainy outside, but the warmth of the cabins downstairs, and the want for beer, made her feel as if she were back inside the Pale Moon tavern. As she slid a mug of mulled beer down to a thirsty sailor, she laughed and began to remember brighter days.

Men were singing with the few dwarves that had occompanied Orik, their mugs sloshing back and forth with the rocking ship. Some where talking pleasantly to other sailors, while others sat to themselves, brooding over the fowl job they had been assigned or just complaining about the weather. Roran was sitting with Katrina nearest to her, his face slightly red but other then that held no sign of how drunk he really was. Katrina laughed, sipping on the milk that she'd asked Elaina to bring. She had a tiny hand resting on her stomach.

Elaina jumped as the door crashed open. In the doorway stood an embarassed Eragon, his face slightly red as he entered the crowed room. Murtagh followed behind, laughing quietly. Apparently, when Eragon had opened the door, the boat rocked to the side and slammed the wood against the wall, causing everyone to jump. There were a few shouts of "hail Shadeslayer!" and some that Elaina thought very rude towards Murtagh, but soon the room regained its normalicy. She frowned, watching Murtagh as he wobbled and shook. As Eragon grew closer, she grabbed his sleeve and asked, "Is he alright?"

"Just a little sea-sick. Where's Roran?"

She pointed to where the man sat, "Let me take him to his cabin. Rest will be better for him then pipe-smoke and beer." Eragon nodded, and she jumped from behind the counter as Eragon made his way towards his cousin. The ship rocked again, and Elaina barely managed to hold Murtagh in place. His face held a sickly green color, and his eyes were cloudy. She wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling his right arm over her shoulder, and began to walk out the door. Once she was well out of earshot of the makeshift pub, she looked up at Murtagh and frowned, "What do you think you're doing? Stuff like that would only make you worse!"

He shrugged, his voice weak, "I didn't think," he paused, holding a hand over his mouth, "I thought I could handle it." Elaina rolled her eyes and smiled, making her way down to the sleeping cabins.

Once there, she sat Murtagh down in a chair and lit a small lantern, illuminating the cramped room. She frowned, wishing there was a basin or bucket of water that she could dampen his forehead with. She rushed around the room, looking for anything that could help, when she felt a cool hand grasp her own. She froze, trying to stand against the swaying of the ship. Murtagh, his head hidden by his hand, said, "Don't worry so much; I'll be fine."

"Don't talk, you'll make it worse." She tried to pull away, but found that his grip got all the more tighter. She frowned, "What is it?" The ship tilted viotently to the right, and she fell into Murtagh's lap. Heat rose in her cheeks, his cool hand still holding her tight.

His head rested on her shoulder, "Are you alright?" She nodded, "Elaina, why. . .?" He sighed, "Why would you care for someone like me? I've asked myself this question, I don't know how many times, and I still can't get any answers. People have hated me, feared me, shunned me, but you," he looked up, staring at her eyes, "you don't do any of those." His hand finally left hers, and he reached up and lightly touched her cheek, "Why is it that you make me feel this way?"

Elaina felt tears in her eyes as she looked at this poor and tourtured creature before her. She reached up to his hand, gently squeasing it, "Because I know you are not one to be feared, Murtagh." A small tear ran down her face, and Murtagh wiped it away with his thumb. His eyes were transfixed on hers, there faces growing closer and closer. Elaina could feel his breath upon her face, and she closed her eyes. . .

"How are you doing, Murtagh?" The door opened quickly, and beyond it stood Eragon and Roran, both grinning like idiots.

Murtagh glared, and Elaina bolted from his lap. He ran a shakey hand through his hair, saying through gritted teeth, "I was, before you two scared us half to death!"

Roran shrugged, "It's good to be scared once in a while," he smirked, then looked at Elaina, "Katrina said she'd share a room with you, that way you didn't half to bunk with men."

"O-oh?" She pulled a lock of hair behind her ear, "Okay, I guess I'll go find her then." She went to the door, not looking at the other men and rushed out.

Eragon raised an eyebrow, "What were you two doing?"

"Nothing!" Murtagh grew dizzy, and his brother's face was the last thing he wanted to see right now. He stormed to one of the bunks and fell into it, hitting his pillow face first.

Eragon laughed and jumped onto the bunk above him. Roran sat in the chair that Murtagh previously occupied, eyeing the room as he set his bags down. Murtagh turned his head, needing to breath, and noticed brown locks leaning over the side of the bed. Eragon's face was leaning over the side, smirking. Growling, Murtagh reached out and tried to snach his hair, but the other Rider was to quick and bolted backward. He fell back onto his pillow, propping it up against the headboard, "At least you look better."

Murtagh grunted, flipping to the other side. It was true, he did feel slightly better. He smiled as he remembered what Elaina had said, as he remembered her warmth against his cold hands. . . He shook his head, asking in a shakey voice, "How long do you think it will take us to get there?"

Eragon sighed, "Well, considering we have half a continent's worth of land to transverse, going through mountains, and then through Du Weldenvarden, which will take longer now that we have so many people."

Roran sighed, "What do you expect? If we're going to avoid the Empire, we have to take the hard road. They'd expect the easy one."

Murtagh shot up, narrowly avoiding hitting his head, "No, they wouldn't!" Curses flew from his mouth as he scrambled out of his bunk, "Think about it, all this time we've been doing unexpected things. What if Galbatorix finally catches up to us?"

A dangerous smile creeps along Eragon's face, "Then we'll meet him head on."


	21. A Fell Wind

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Twenty-one: A Fell Wind**

**Reviewers: Oh my, I'm sooo sorry for the wait. You would not _believe_ the week I've had, but I'm better now, so I can write again! This chapter is much longer than the previous two, and I went back and made sure to make corrections, so there shouldn't be a problem there. **

**Thank you for all your reviews, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as the rest. I'm going to start working on 22 right now, so it'll be up soon! Enjoy!**

Elaina, her legs dangling over the side of the ship, watched as the gentle breeze swayed back and forth across the ocean's waters. Sea gulls cried angrily as sailors who sat along the sails shooed them away when they flew to close to the open sail. Strange creatures of the ocean jumped out from the water's depths, racing the gigantic ship to their destination. The reflection of Thorn's scales were purple beneath the endless blue, Saphira was pratically invisible. She laughed as the red dragon's head emerged from the water, spraying the clear liquid on a few unfortunate sailors.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" Elaina nodded as Katrina leaned against the banister, her hair caught in the wind. She sighed, "I wonder how much longer we'll be on this thing?"

"Who knows," Elaina said, shrugging, "I just hope we don't run into any trouble."

"Don't say that!" Katrina cried, smiling, "You'll jinx us, you know."

She said nothing, but continued to watch the endless horizon of enternal blue. An overwhelming feeling of being lost consumed her mind, and her heart dearly longed to look upon the green fields of Alagesia once more. The last bits of land that the crew had laid eyes on were the few specks of islands that lined the seafront of the far away country, so far that nothing but mountain peaks were visible.

Night fell, the sky covered in the blanket of black clouds, suffocating the ship in an inescapable darkness. A chill fell upon the decks, an ominous air floating on the wind. Elaina said nothing to anyone, and scarcely took her eyes off of the western side. _Something isn't right, it's too quiet._

"Skimmers! Five of them, on the starboard side!" A Surdian soldier, one who had volunteered to guard Eragon and Roran, shouted from the Crow's Nest. The ship burst into life. The door to the lower decks blew open, crashing against the side of the ship with a resounding boom. Man after man came pouring out of its holds, their arms full with spears, arrows, axes, and swords. Eragon, Roran, and Murtagh rushed to the mast, their weapons at the ready.

Jeod, his shadow casted long across the length of the ship, looked at the men with a fierce flame in his eye, "Alright men, get to your posts! If it's a fight they want, it's a fight they'll get!" The men cheered, and he rushed behind the steering wheel and turned to the left sharply.

It didn't take long for Elaina to see the black and red sails of Galbatorix's Skimmers. They slowly accended from the horizon, their sails looking like the terrible fins of a stalking shark. She jumped as a leathered hand fell on her shoulder. Murtagh's face was grim, his eyes staring off into the distance, "Get below deck. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not going any--!"

"Go, now!" He barked, rushing towards the foremast. Men were either scrampling up it's pole or sliding down it, daggers in hand and mouth. The wind grew fiercer, and a thunderclap sounded in the distance. A twisted smile spread across his lips, _So, we fight our own men now?_

_I don't mind, _Thorn said, his head piercing through the water's surface, _I was getting bored of fish anyway._

_Stay below the water until I tell you to come out, alright? _He frowned, trying to see the ships better, _they may have ballista onboard._

_I'm not that stupid. You're the one that needs to be careful._

_For once, just listen to me, alright?_ He sighed, shaking his head, _Tell Saphira the same thing, will you? I don't think Eragon knows what they are._

Amusement reflected in Thorn's words, _Yes, a Dragon Rider without the knowledge of dragon killing tools._

_Just tell her,_ Murtagh ran to the bow, Zar'roc shinning in the lantern light. Light footfalls fell behind him, and a he turned with a tired smile on his face, "Lian, you seem well."

"Sorry I haven't said hello to you yet," he smiled widely, "I've been catching up." Before Murtagh could ask, Lian raised his hand, "This isn't the time for explainations, Rider, there is a battle before us!" He drew two blades, to small to be swords but longer than daggers. The light caught in his eyes, giving him a dangerous glint, "It's time to show you what _I _can do." Murtagh nodded and said no more, watching as the Skimmers drew closer and closer.

**Emperial Skimmer, Below Deck**

Sir Allister frowned as he twisted his dagger deeper and deeper into the wood of his table. It didn't take them long to recieve the information of Murtagh's movement to Ellesmera; they have spies all throughout the Varden. A hard expression lay on the old man's face as he tossed and turned his endless thoughts inside his head. _I've known the boy since he was a babe, _he grimaced, walking towards his door. With a sigh, he asked, "Tornac, my brother, what would you have done?"

A small laugh escaped his lips; his brother would have said no. Ever since the boy was small, Tornac had been there for him. At times, he even refered to Murtagh as "son", something that sent a jolt of fear in Allister's heart. There was nothing wrong with the boy, on the surface, but it was rumored that he was cursed. Everything the boy held dear seemed to disappear or die, never to be seen again. Many a time the brothers would fight over the subject of being so close to the boy. Yet Tornac listened to none of it, and instead embraced the child all the more. He played games with him, taught him the way of the sword, stayed by him when he was ill, and even scolded him when he'd done something wrong.

And now he was dead. Deep down, Allister had hated Murtagh for it, and blamed the boy for the death of his brother. But now, knowing what and why Murtagh was serving the the king, he only felt pity for the him. A defiant glare hardened the seasoned soldier's face all the more, _I have been given my orders. He will arrive back at the palace; dead or alive._ He opened the doors, a single raindrop falling from the sky.

**Dragon Wing, Port Side**

Roran paced restlessly along the deck, the cool rain falling from the sky. He watched as men moved the gigantic iron crossbows from one side of the boat to the other, the wheels leaving a small indent as they carried their heavy burden. Garrow, his talons clicking on the wooden floor, leaped up and rested on the siding of the ship. Violet eyes peered out into the distance, and he hissed, _This is bad, isn't it?_

_Not really, but I don't want you fighting, _he placed a protective hand on his scaly friend, _you are still to young._

_I know, _the young dragon leaped down with a reluctant air, _but soon, you and I shall fight as Eragon and his brother does! Just wait, Roran! Saphira has told me so much about the master that awaits us, _smoke escaped his nostrils as he leaped excitedly into the air, _it will be marvelous!_

_I'm sure it will, _he said, laughing, _but first we have to live through this night._

Slowly but surely, the Skimmers came into full view. The reflection of the soldiers' armor shone across the dark waters as the countless men moved about their decks. It was a similar sight on the Dragon Wing, as soldier and sailor alike rushed from post to post, from bow to stern, carrying messages and weapons to whomever they were instructed to. Eragon stood next to Jeod, his bow strung and ready for battle. His heart quickened with a new sort of excitment as rain glued his hair to his forehead. _Saphira?_

_Yes, Eragon?_ The blue dragon was completely invisible beneath the ocean waters as she swam next to the ship.

He frowned, squinting against the rain, _I have an idea, but it might be slightly dangerous._

_Anything is better then waiting around for the fight, _she broke the surface, sending small waves rippling around and crashing into the ship.

Eragon met her by the side, _I was thinking, since you're so well hidden, that you could swim underneath their ships and tear open their undersides. That way, much of the fighting could be avoided._

She looked at the oncoming ships, then back at him. A fanged smirk flashed across her face, _I'll be back soon._ With a large splash she disappaered beneath the water, a deadly torpedo of flesh and bone.

Jeod watched, a bemused look on his face, "What is she doing?"

"You'll see."

"No, we won't," he turned and faced the ship. Taking a deep breath, the old man bellowed, "Alright, you scalawags! Turn off the lanterns!" He laughed, placing a hand on Eragon's shoulder, "Let them fight us in the dark, if they can even find us."

**Emperial Skimmer, Stern**

Allister cursed as the Dragon Wing disappeared from sight. Shielding himself from a blast of wind, he shouted, "Keep steady, men! The cowards won't escape us that easily!" The wind howled, rain pounding on the hard wooden ships. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but there was no lightening to be seen. He cursed again, slamming his hand against the siding of the boat.

Suddenly, screams from the boat at the end shattered the storm's melody. Flames erupted as the ship began to sink into the merciless ocean, her men scrambling in vain to the mainmast for safety. Not far behind, another began the same act, her black sail disappearing beneath the cold waters. From the three remaining ships, cries of fear and ordering commanders traveled across from boat to boat, utter chaos shattering the once calm assult.

"What's happening?!" Allister ran down the length of the ship, reaching the starboard side. His second in command was staring down at the water, his eyes almost closed from his extreme examination.

The man rose, his face white as a ghost's, "It's a sea serpent, or some fearful beast!" He grabbed Allister by the arms, shaking him wildly, "We're doomed!"

Allister smacked him, shouting, "Are you a fool?! It's one of those blasted dragons! Ready the ballista!"

The second in command nodded, shouting, "Ready the ballista!" It echoed, like a chain reaction, as the messege carried over to the remaining ships. Metal scratched the well polished wood as the gigantic weapons were dragged from one postion to the other. Soon both sides of every ship was a dangerous fang ready to bite into the beast that preyed on their allies.

One of the gigantic crossbows fired, sending its deadly missle into the deep. Suddenly the water parted, and out shot a majestic blue dragon. The beast roared in defiance, its scales shinning in the dim lantern light. Allister punched the air, "Fire!" The weapons were aimed skyward, and with a loud twang the giant arrows shot into the sky. The dragon roared once more, shooting deadly flames at the Skimmers before raising higher.

To his left Allister heard another series of sickening cracks, and watched in horror and frustration as another one of their Skimmers met its end. He cursed, watching as a red glimmer shot underneath the water. "Thorn, you dirty, traitorous lizard!" Slow wingbeats rose before him, and soon he met cold, yellow eyes. Sir Allister, closing his own, was ready to face his death as the dragon drew in his breath. . .

**Dragon Wing, Bow**

_Thorn, stop it! _Murtagh cried, watching everything through the dragon's eyes. He watched in horror as his friend was about to roast the old man.

_He's our enemy, Murtagh!_ Shouted Thorn, his fury overpowering their link, _You seem to have trouble deciphering who to trust or not!_

_Not him! He's not our enemy!_ Without noticing, Murtagh was leaning over the bow, dangerously close to plumetting into the cold waters. _Come back! You're to easy to see out there; we can see your scales from here!_ Thorn didn't answer, and Murtagh felt himself being blocked from the dragon's mind. His feet slammed back onto the deck, "Damn him!"

"What's wrong? Why isn't he attacking them?" Lian asked, staring out at their enemy.

"Where's Eragon?"

"Why?"

"Just tell me!" Murtagh shouted, grabbing Lian by the shoulders.

"Alright, alright! He's at the steering column next to Jeod--" He didn't have a chance to finish, for Murtagh bolted down the deck, swaying along with the rocking ship.

He ran, his heart feeling as though it would give way from its furious beating. In the dark it was easy to trip over a loose rope or barrel, and even a sailor or two, yet Murtagh pushed forward, leaping over any obsticle he could barely make out. Soon he could feel the stairs to the stern, and he took two at a time to reach the top. Eragon looked at him curiously, an eyebrow raised. Doubled over, Murtagh huffed, "Tell. . . tell Saphira to. . ."

"To what?" He stopped, staring in horror as a deafening cry traveled across the darkness. Both Eragon and Murtagh watched as a large form fell from the sky in the distance. "No. . ."

"Thorn!" Murtagh cried, staring in horror as his dragon fell into the water, a large projectile lodged in his right wing. Unbareable pain seared his shoulder, and if not for Eragon's hand he would have fallen on his knees.

Eragon reached for Saphira, urgency and fear exploding across their link, _Get back here! Can you carry Thorn?_

_We'll be seen, but yes, _a feeling of guilt slightly passed across Eragon's mind, and an image of Thorn shooting up higher to recieve a dart that would have been Saphira's flashed before his mind. Her words were worried, _I'll hurry._

He nodded, then faced Murtagh, "Saphira is bringing him back, but they'll be able to follow his blood here."

"Let them come," his voice was dark, a fearsome rage lacing every word, "they will pay for every drop of blood that falls from my dragon's body."

Soon the dragon's were next to the portside of the ship, the smell of blood rich on the water. Murtagh leaped from the side, a safety rope fastened around his waist. The water battered his face and stung his eyes, and froze him down to the bone. Fighting the current, he swam to his injured friend, trying to find the wound. Weakly, Thorn's thoughts traced his mind, _It's under the water. The salt stings it._

_Not for much longer, _taking a breath, Murtagh dove underneath the beast, swimming in the dragon's own blood. Unable to see, he found his way by tracing his fingers along the rough, slick scales of Thorn's hide, until he reached the wound. The dart had been removed, by Saphira or the ocean he couldn't tell, but there was a wound the size of his fist right where the wing met Thorn's shoulders. Reaching for the magic, Murtagh healed his friend with a few additional words to keep the salty water out of the healing wound. A small air bubble exploded as a bright light surrounded the hole, the tissue slowly closing in. As the magic finished, Thorn jolted out of the water, sending an angry roar at the remaining Skimmers.

Running out of air, Murtagh turned quickly to swim to the surface. His head bobbed above the water, and he began to tug on the safety line. However, as the men began to pull him up, a large and violent wave crashed into the ship, slamming him against the side. The wind escaped his lungs with an instant woosh, his body cold and shaking. He saw dots, and didn't notice the rope gently unraveling around his waist. Instantly he began to plummett back into the water, when Thorn swooped down and caught him on his back. He coughed, leaning against Thorn's warm scales, _Thanks for that._

_We'll call it even._

Murtagh's feet landed on the deck, still dazed from the slam; he heard the shouts of the other soldiers. Both Skimmers were in clear view, every man visible in the dark night. He cursed, rushing back to his post. He was passing the door to the lower decks when he heard the order to fire from the other ships. In slow motion he watched as arrow after arrow flew across the sky, slowly falling to greet their targets with a deadly bite. He watched as a single arrow zoomed towards him, inches evaporating as it grew closer.

"Look out!" A voice cried, and Murtagh felt tiny hands pushing him to the floor.

The air grew quiet, and time seemed to stop as Murtagh watched Elaina falling, an arrow lodged in her chest on the right side. With inhuman speed he caught the girl before she landed on the harsh floor, staring at her in shock. Shakey hands brushed across her smooth face, "Elaina. . .no . . .!" Tears streamed from his eyes, "No!" He was to exhausted from shock, magic, and injury to help her, and in the dark and confusion he couldn't find Eragon.

Elaina smiled weakly, her breath coming in short gasps, "It's, not so. . .bad. . ." She lifted a pale hand and carressed his cheek, "I'll. . . I'll be . . ."

"Don't talk; I'm going to help you!" He cursed as he noticed the type of arrow that had pierced her. The thick shaft and goose feathering told him that if he simply pulled the arrow out, it would do more damage than if it had gone all the way through. He tried to fake a smile, but failed as it was drowned by tears and rainfall, "I'm going to have to push it through. This," he paused, his voice failing, "this is going to hurt, very badly."

She gripped his hand tightly and nodded, "I'm ready."

Snapping off the fletching, Murtagh began to push the arrow further into Elaina, hating himself for hurting her more. She cried out, feeling the arrow move into her inch by inch. Intense pain exploded through her shoulder as the arrowhead emerged from her body, an inch of the shaft free from the bloody hole. She whimpered as Murtagh quickly grabbed the wood and pulled the rest of the arrow through her. She laughed, her voice faint, "T-that wasn't. . . wasn't so bad." She shuddered, then passed out in his arms.


	22. The End of the Sword

**Pale Hope**

**by Namine3419**

**Chapter Twenty-Two: The End of the Sword**

**Reviewers: Thank you for the wonderful reviews, as always! This chapter was rushed, due to forces unmentionable, so sorry if it is short or mistake-riddled. Well, read and review, but most of all ENJOY!****  
**

It wasn't long before the clash of steel was heard above deck. Blood seeped through the cracks in the wood, creating a crimson rainfall. The few that had stayed below deck had barracaded the door to the outside once Murtagh had brought Elaina downstairs. The girl lay on a small bunk in the back, her breathing hard as sweat gathered on her brow. Murtagh wiped it away with a cool rag (which was actually a torn bit of his soaked clothing). She tossed and turned, her eyes darting across closed lids in an endless nightmare.

The door opened, and Katrina entered with fresh rags and boiling liquor. She frowned, looking down at Elaina, "This is all we have. I knew we should have forced them to pack medical supplies!" She sighed angrily, slamming the liquid down on a table, "But of course, men never listen to the thoughts of women."

He didn't answer her, but busied himself with removing the old bandages. _She's still bleeding, _he dipped a fresh rag into the liquor and placed it over the wound. Elaina hissed, sucking the air through clenched teeth as he gently stroked the arrow hole. He sighed, lifting his free hand up and rubbed his eyes. Katrina placed a hand on his shoulder, "You need to rest."

"I'll not leave her--"

"You'll do her more good if you get something to eat and lay down for a few minutes!" She demanded, lifting him out of his chair. She laughed at the surprise on his face, "What? You think Roran just married a pretty face? Now go! Once you feel better, then you can come back and heal her properly."

His eyes darted from Katrina to Elaina. His head dropped, "Alright, but not for to long. I'm only going to eat something, then I'll be back." Before Katrina could give him another angry look, he rushed out of the door, closing it behind him quickly.

The hallways were chaotic. Soldiers were coming down with missing limbs while fresh ones rushed to take their place, undiscernable faces hidden underneath their helms. A few dwarfs passed him along the way, making sure to "accidentily" bump into him with their axes or hammers. He was starting to get annoyed with a particular dwarf when Thorn's voice buzzed into his head, _How is she doing?_

_I don't know, _he snapped, _I was kicked out of the room._ He stopped before the dwarf neck to him could clock him in the head with his war hammer.

Thorn laughed, _It seems you're fighting your own battle, but if you don't mind, _his voice broke away for a moment, and Murtagh watched as he ripped an enemy soldier from the planks of their own ship and threw him into the deep, _would you eat something? You're making me hungry!_

_Fine, just don't eat anyone, _he laughed, _remember our rule._

_I didn't eat him! And I was barely a hatchling then!_

Murtagh, still smiling, turned into the next hallway and walked into the dinning hall, leaving Thorn to fume. The rustle of the battle upstairs made it impossible for him to think as he rummaged around in search for something to eat. Soon he gave up, and took an apple that was sitting on a table at the far side. Murtagh, leaning against the wall, slid to the floor and munched while above him men died. Dots danced before his eyes, and for the first time he realized how tired he was. _This doesn't make any sense. I've done spells three times more powerful then what I used on Thorn's wound! So why am I so tired?_ A jolt of pain ran through his scar, _Oh, that's why._ He laughed bitterly, all alone in the dark dinning hall as the oath's magic began its dark curse.

**Topside, Dragon Wing**

Lian's knifes flashed in the light of the flames as he took down soldier after soldier. A sick smile was spread across his face as he dug one of his blades into the heart of an opponent, slashing another's neck at the same time. A bloodlust had taken over the half-elf, and his eyes held such a ferociousness that none dared to stand in his way. Arya was not far behind, brandishing her elven rapier while using its sheath as a make-shift shield. Her raven hair danced among the sea drafts as she hacked and slashed her way across the deck, leaving a trail of dead men in her wake.

Eragon, from atop the Crow's Nest, used Saphira's eyes to find his targets and sent deadly arrows down to the floor. He longed to join his friends in hand-to-hand, but being restricted to the bow, he decided to take the best vantage point he could find. Roran, on the other hand, held no blade or bow, but his trademark hammer. Eragon laughed as he heard the few men from Carvahall chanting, "Stronghammer, Stronghammer" as his cousin smashed the faces and bones of unlucky Emperials. Garrow stayed near Saphira, by her order, and swooped down to bite or claw at the enemy. The green dragon flashed above the ship like a living arrow, gutting and decapitating anyone to slow to jump out of the way, which was most of the men.

A fierce cry came from beneath him, and Eragon smirked as he watched Orik hack into two soldiers at a time. The mighty dwarf's ax flashed and vanished in the firelight, and an inhuman howl bellowed from his lips everytime he made a kill. From his back, four Emperial soldiers were sneaking up on him. _He doesn't notice them!_ Eragon quickly flung arrow after arrow into his bow, releasing them all at lightening speed. They whistled through the night air, sending the men into the depths of hell. Orik turned and watched as the four fell to the ground, then laughed and waved at Eragon. He nodded, then continued to scout the boat.

Soon many were growing tired, and it seemed that both sides would have to give way, least they all die from exhaustion. Eragon watched in amazement as an old man used his sword, with speed unnatural for one his age, and cut down a circle of Surdian warriors. He froze as the old man looked up at him, cold eyes freezing him to the bone. Eragon's heart skipped a beat when he found that he couldn't see Murtagh. This man was trouble; trouble meant for the older Rider. He looked around the horizon in search for his own dragon, and found that she had crossed to one of the Skimmers in an attempt to slow their exchange of men, _Saphira, do you know where Murtagh is?_

_Below deck, _she replied, snatching a spear away from a foolish soldier that had tried to stab her. He fell into the water as she jerked, _Thorn said Elaina was injured; he went to try and help. But something's wrong I fear._

Eragon kept his eye on the old man, _Can you distract this one for me? I need to see what's going on._ He didn't like this; Murtagh was as good a spellcaster now as he was a swordsmen, so there was no reason it should take so long.

Saphira nudged his mind, _Don't worry so much; he's probably just tired. I'll watch the old one, but make sure you wait until I get there before you decide to slide down!_

A roar echoed over the water, and Saphira bolted out of nowhere into the sky, narrowing her wings to gain speed and avoid enemy arrows. Seeing the old man, she quickly fanned her wings out, an explosion of air washing over the boat and knocking down enemy and friend alike. That was Eragon's que. Using the safety rope, he slid down so quickly that the leather gloves that protected his hands began to smoke. He was halfway down the mast when a vicious wind blew him sideways, snapping the rope in two. He cursed, unable to control his body in the updraft. He closed his eyes as the water came racing up to meet him. . .

_Gotcha!_ Eragon, opening his eyes, had never been more happy to see the red dragon. Thorn laughed, _You and your brother are more alike then you think. Both of you can't stay out of trouble._

_Thank you, _he steadied himself on Thorn's back, _hurry! I need to get below deck._

_I was about to ask you that, _his voice was worried, _I can't contact Murtagh._

That just worsened Eragon's fears, _All right, hurry!_ Thorn bolted, catching Eragon unawares. The red dragon was much faster than Saphira, but his movements were clumsier and caused Eragon to feel slightly sick. For some reason he thought Thorn was doing this on purpose.

Soon they were back over the Dragon Wing, and Eragon quickly leapted from Thorn's back. He rushed to the door, only to find that it had been blocked. Cursing, he began banging wildly on the wood, shouting that it was him and to let him pass. His temper got the best of him, and he pushed the door open with magic, rushed inside, and quickly put the barracade back in place.

**Below Deck, Dragon Wing**

He raced down the hallway, not really paying any attention to where he was going, when Katrina came into his path. He skidded to a halt, only inches away from crashing into the girl. She looked worried, and in her hands was an empty bowl and dirty clothes, all stained with blood. She frowned, "Isn't Murtagh coming back? It's been forever since he left."

"Should I go look for him?" He asked, turning his head backward to see if Murtagh would round the corner.

Katrina shook her head, "No, he can take care of himself. You need to get in there and do whatever it is you do to heal wounds." She sighed, "Elaina's not doing good. Her bleeding won't stop and she's developed a fever."

He nodded, walking into the room, "Go get some rest; I'll take it from here." Eragon gave her a smile as she walked out of the room, closing the door behind herself gently.

The smell of blood was thick in the air, and Eragon could hear Elaina's forceful gasps. Sorrow filled him as he walked closer to the girl; this was to much like Brom's death. Pulling up a stool, Eragon removed what bandage had been placed over the wound, frowning as a fresh stream of blood flowed from the opening. Her skin was severly bruised around the area, and she burned. Her face was paler than normal, tiny sweatbeads looking like crystal teardrops on her brow. Eragon removed his glove with the gedwey ignasia on it, reached for the magic, and said, "Waise heill!"

Elaina heaved upward as the magic reconnected broken muscle. Blue light lit up her body, and soon Eragon noticed a slight pink color returning to her cheeks. Once the wound had completely closed, Eragon leaned back, resting his hand on his fist. He watched as her eyes fluttered open, "Oh." Elaina tried to lift herself by her elbow, but winced and came crashing back down, falling slightly to the left. Eragon caught her before she hit the ground, easing her back onto the cushions. She placed a hand on her forehead, "Murtagh...is he...?"

Eragon frowned, "He's fine," he lied, not wanting her to worry in her condition, "I'll go find him for you." She nodded weakly, closing her eyes as Eragon left the room.

He ran down the hallways, peeking his head in and out of every door he passed in an attempt to find his brother. It seemed that every doorway was an opening to some new suffering, as injured soldiers lay dying or screaming in blind agony. Eragon helped those that he could, but soon returned to souly finding Murtagh. He passed another corridor, this time finding Katrina. She ran to him, her eyes tearful, "Something's wrong with him!"

"What?"

"In there, go!" She turned him around, and together they walked into the dinning hall. Katrina led him around the tables until she reached a huddled mass in the corner, writhing around and clawing at what would be his back. A tear ran down her face, "I just found him like this."

Eragon knelt, knowing that if he touched him the pain would only be worse, "Murtagh..."

**Above Deck, Outside the Barracade**

Allister frowned, stepping over a dead body that had previously tried to bar his way. He wiped the blood from his blade on the man's cloak, then examined the door in front of him. Lazily he lifted his sword, slashing horizontally at the wooden door. It gave way with a hiss, crumbling to the floor and sliding off deck. Kicking aside the few crates that stood in his way, Allister descended the stairs, slicing open anyone that opposed him.

He was about to crash into one of the rooms when he heard someone say a familiar name. Slowly he walked to the door, cracking it enough to where he could see inside. Two people stood in the corner, another person shaking on the floor. Carefully, he pushed the door further, entering silently and stalking up to the others. The man that was standing, an elf by the look of it, turned quickly, an arrow pointed at Allister's face.

The boy stared at him, and a smile crept along Allister's face, "The other Rider, am I correct? The boy that shot my men from afar?" He slashed his blade infront of himself, almost hitting the bow away, "What, are you a coward, or a weakling?"

"Neither, old man." The boy, walking in front of the girl, kept the bow aimed at his face, "Step outside."

"Not without him," he pointed a finger at the mass of clothes in the floor; he knew it was Murtagh.

The boy scowled, "Over my dead body."

"As you wish," Allister thrusted his blade forward, lunging at the youth. The boy, dropping his bow and grabbing the arm of the girl, jumped to the side. His sword was stuck in the side of the ship, and for a moment he saw Murtagh's face. It was sickly pale, and a horrible grimace painted his pained face. Sympathy flashed across his heart, but as an arrow wizzed by his head Allister quickly returned to battle. He slashed horizontally at the boy's stomach, cursing when he leaped away from the blow once more. An amused smile crossed the old man's features, "You must be Eragon."

"Glad I'm so famous!" Grabbing a nearby chair, Eragon swung at Allister's head, splintering the wood against his armor. When the older man didn't fall, Eragon ducked down, kicked, and swept the man's feet out from under him. Allister screamed, hitting the floor on his back. As the wind escaped his lungs, Eragon stood over him, removing his sword from hand, "Think I'm a weakling now?"

"No," Allister wrapped his own legs around the boy's, tilting his body so he fell to the ground, "just a fool." He watched as the harsh wooden floor crashed against his opponent's face, blood from a split lip splashing across the floor. Once he was sure the boy was unconcious, he stood again and dusted himself off. Slowly, he walked to Murtagh's huddled form, the girl rushing over to the fallen Rider. He reached down, lifted Murtagh over his shoulder, and began to walk out of the room.

He looked back, and a thought crossed his mind. _Here is the Rider to the female dragon, unconcious and helpless._ He placed Murtagh on the ground and began to walk towards the unconcious Eragon. The girl stood, holding a shattered piece of wood as a weapon, "Get away from him!" Allister slapped her away, knocking the girl to the floor. Once she was out of the way, he reached down and grabbed the boy by his tunic, when his hand froze. A drop of blood, his blood, fell onto the boy's sleeve.

"I'm...I'm sorry..." Murtagh, Zar'roc in his hand, stood behind him, his eyes cloudy, "I can't let you take him."

"So," Allister felt himself go, his legs growing numb, "you kill my brother first, then finish with me." A sad smile crossed his face, "You little bastard..."

"Allister!" As the old man fell, Murtagh grabbed him and pulled him back. He watched, as the old man died in his arms.


	23. Drinking Songs

**Pale Hope**

**by Namine3419**

**Chapter Twenty-three: Drinking Songs**

**Reviewers: Sorry it took me so long to update, again, but I'm having really bad writer's block. This chapter is a bit boring, but is needed for future development, lol. Well, I hope you like it; enjoy!****  
**

It was quiet, the entire ship silent in respect for the fallen. Countless bodies were lined up along the edge of the Dragon Wing, wrapped in the cloth that would send them on to the next life. It didn't matter what side they were on, in the end, they were all human beings who had fought and died for a cause they believed in. The remaining Skimmers had fled after Allister's death, his body on board one of the ships. Murtagh watched with a heavy heart as the old man sailed away, never to pick up a blade again. Eragon watched him from afar, helping Roran cover another dead soldier, "You think he'll be alright?"

Roran stopped what he was doing and looked at the other Rider, "He'll be fine; how would you feel if you had to kill someone close to you?"

It was a beautiful day, as if in some sick humor the sky thought to make a day of death to be so lovely. The ocean sparkled a deep blue, and the sky was crystal clear, the rays of the sun falling gently on the faces of the living. The soothing sound of the water softly leading the ship along its course made it easier for friend to say goodbye to fallen friend as they lowered the dead into the sea, never to see them again.

By midday the deck had been cleared, and the few dwarf dead had been taken into the lower decks to wait until they could be buried in the ground. Murtagh still sat, his eyes scanning the endless horizon in search for something that could not be found. He sighed, lowering his head until his face was in shadow. Thorn swam up next to him, his head breaking the water, _Are you going to be alright?_

_He was right, _a single tear ran down his face, _if it wasn't for me, Tornac would still be--_

_Tornac died by his own decision, _Thorn thrust forward to keep pace with the ship, _it wasn't even your idea to escape the palace._

_That's not the point!_ He slammed his fist down on the bannister, _He was trying to protect me, and because of me, he died! And now, as if that wasn't enough, I've killed his brother, by my own hand!_

Thorn, his yellow eyes absorbing everything that reflected into them, said softly, _Aye, but wouldn't he have done the same thing if it were he in your position?_

For a long time Murtagh said nothing, then a small smile spread across his lips and he stood straight, _You're right. I'm going to go check on Elaina, do you mind?_

_I'll be alright, _a playful feeling ran through their link, _I'm going to find Saphira._

_She can hurt you, you know, _he was laughing by the time he reached what would have been the door to the lower decks, _she is bigger than you._ He sensed Thorn close their link and shook his head, taking the steps down one by one. He was glad that Thorn had someone he could really talk to, in a way that he himself would never understand. Sure, Thorn had been able to talk to Shruikan, but it wasn't the same with Saphira or Garrow. Murtagh had never seen the dragon so happy, so free to be who he really wanted to be, let alone when they were together.

Already he could hear laughter from the same room where so much sorrow had insued. He stopped when a sweet voice graced his ears. It was like a morning bird singing the sun to rise. There was so much happiness and kindness in the words of the tune that Murtagh couldn't help but smile himself, feeling a warmth blossom inside his stomach. The music grew faster and faster, and the sound of men stomping their feet and raising their own voices poured through the walls and seemed to cleanse the boat of anything dark or saddening. Temptation raised his hand to open the door, but guilt and insecurity lowered it once more, _They'll be happier if I don't join them._

"And just where might you be going, Argetlam?" Murtagh froze as Orik opened the door for him. A light temporaily blinded him, "That lass is singing for you. I suggest you get inside."

His eyes coming into focus, Murtagh stared in aw as he watched Elaina singing from atop a table, Arya beside her, red-faced and giggling. The elf laughed with her as the sang their next verse. Eragon stood under them, making sure to catch whoever would fall, while Roran was laughing along with Jeod and a few other sailors. Lian was behind the counter, serving beer and other drinks while Katrina passed out bread to sailors who'd drank to much. Despite himself, Murtagh laughed. Orik nudged him on the shoulder, "I heard what you did, Argetlam."

Murtagh avoided his eyes, "I. . . did what I had to."

"Well, I suppose, since you're an emotional wreck and all," the dwarf turned, but his ears were clearly turning red, "we can postpone our fight until you settle things."

"You are truely the tallest man in this room, Orik," Murtagh walked away, keeping to the wall to avoid attention. It didn't work for very long; as soon as Elaina saw him she shouted his name and waved. She waved so violently that she lost her balance, slipped, and started to fall. Murtagh was running towards her, but knew he wouldn't catch her in time. Luckily Eragon was there, ready for such an event. He caught the falling girl as if she were no heavier than a feather pillow, gently placing her into a chair. The room roared with laughter as she attempted to return to her table-top, but Eragon whispered something in her ear and she frowned. Once the laughter died down, everyone turned to look at who had caused their singer to fall. Murtagh, turning red, started to back away from everyone as best he could.

Elaina, her head perking up, laughed and rushed towards him before Eragon could stop her. He had to stifle a laugh; she was clearly drunk by the way she swayed and bumped into people. Smiling a lazy smile, Elaina shouted, "It's about time you got here!" She took a step to soon and tripped over her own feet, falling quickly to the floor.

Murtagh leaped, fell on the ground, and took the brunt of her fall for her. The room erupted in laughter once more, then decided to start their own series of drinking songs, quickly ignoring the couple on the floor. "Are you alright?" Murtagh asked, his voice distant.

"Murtagh?" Elaina started searching for him frantically, "Where are you? Where'd you go?"

"Below you."

"Wha--?" She looked down and gasped, "How did you get under there?!" She quickly rolled off of him, leaning against the wall for support.

Murtagh sighed, "Let's get you some fresh air, shall we?"

"Hm? What for?"

He reached down and helped her up, "You're very drunk right now. . ."

"I am no--Hey!" Murtagh picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder. She began to pound on his back, kicking and screaming, but her cries were drowned out by the sound of the room, unnoticed. He headed towards the door, ignoring Elaina's many commands of "put me down" and "stop it, right now!"

It was a beautiful, clear night sky when they reached the deck. A pleasantly cool breeze tossed their hair around as the moonlight luminated the ship and casted shadows of the masts that stretched far from their actual length. The ocean sparkled with the reflection of the endless stars above, the soothing sound of waves gently washing past the bottom of the boat making it seem like some far-off dream. The cool air seemed to sober Elaina up instantly. She stopped fighting Murtagh and sighed, "It's a beautiful night."

"Nice to see you're back on earth," Murtagh laughed, lowering the girl. He tucked his hands underneath his arms, "It's kind of cold. Do you want my cloak?"

She shook her head, chestnut hair shining in the moonlight, "I'm fine; it feels nice." A smile graced her lips, "You seem to have cheered up a bit."

Murtagh started to walk towards the side of the ship, Elaina following behind. He was silent for a long time, just watching the waves go up and down, wondering how much longer it would take them to reach their destination. It had gotten much cooler over the past few days, and they'd found out from a hostage soldier that the Skimmers had departed from Treim, so they couldn't be to far from their goal. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "What was that song you were singing?"

"Oh, that," she laughed, shyly putting a lock of hair behind her ear. She looked up, the moon reflecting in her eyes, "I don't even know the name of it, but Shera used to sing it to the bartendens when I was a little girl." She giggled, covering up her smile with her hand, "I use to do the same exact thing, too; getting up on the tables and dancing. It was a way to brighten a rainy day."

Murtagh smiled, "You must've had a wonderful childhood. If I even attempted something like that, they would've locked me up in a tower somewhere, saying I was crazy." They wind swayed his hair, "Thorn's coming up." He shielded her from the spray as Thorn shot out, water raining down upon his cloak. Elaina, still slightly drunk, laughed hysterically as the dragon shook his scales as dry as he could make them. Once the downpour had ended, Murtagh smiled and waved, _Good thing to see your in one piece._

Thorn snorted, hot air and smoke billowing into Murtagh's face, _I didn't annoy her, like you thought. She's to busy teaching Garrow how to fish._

A small trace of jealousy from his dragon made him raise an eyebrow, _What's that about?_

_You,_ Thorn lowered his head, inches from Murtagh's own nose, _wouldn't understand it even if I told you._

_She's just teaching him how to survive. _A sly smirk danced across his face, _Unless you think your to helpless to fend for yourself. I thought you were a big dragon now, Thorn._

He roared, infuriated, _You annoying little _creature!_ I should lift you from the ground you stand, take you fivehundred feet in the air, and drop you!_ Without his Rider knowing, Thorn tapped into Elaina's unprotected mind, pleading, _make him stop, please!_

_Stop? _She tried to look inconspicuous, but her mind was still fuzzy and she really couldn't control herself, _Stop what?_

_Why is your head so messed up?_ Thorn asked, his wings thumping in the air. His scales luminated a dark purple color in the moonlight.

Elaina rubbed her forehead, _Hasn't Murtagh ever been drunk?_

_No, he's afraid to._

_Why?_

A mischievous glare lit up the dragon's eye, _Why don't you ask him?_ Thorn looked back at Murtagh, who had tried to tap into their conversation but running into Thorn's barriers, _I'm going to go swimming for a little while, but I'll be back soon. Do you want to go flying?_ A deep desire overpowered both the Rider and dragon as Thorn continued, _It's been ages since we've flown together. And I'm sure they'll let you if Eragon and Saphira come with us._

_I'll ask, _answered Murtagh, patting the dragon's snout. With a happy growl Thorn plunged back into the deep, which left the unwarned passengers of the boat soaked and shivering. Murtagh cursed, placing whatever dry part of his cloak he had around Elaina's shivering form, "That stupid lizard."

"It's alright," she said through dripping hair, "I'm n-n-not that c-c-c-cold."

"Right," he said, rolling his eyes. Elaina punched him in the arm, "Ow! Would you stop that? You might act sweet, but you're really violent!"

She laughed mockingly, "What? Can't the big, strong Rider defend himself against a small tavern-girl's punches?" She started to repeatidly pummel him with tiny strikes up and down his chest. After a while Murtagh grabbed her wrist, "Hey!"

"Cut it out, will you?" He asked, his voice light, "Anyway, you're only embarrassing yourse--Ouch!" Elaina ran away giggling as Murtagh clutched his kicked knee. Cursing, he ran after her, yelling, "Get back here!" Even drunk, the girl was surprisingly quick. His heart skipped a beat every time he saw her wobble dangerously close to the edge, but then she would quickly swing back and take off in the opposite direction. He watched as Elaina hopped behind some barrels, as if to loose track of him. He sighed, walking towards it, "I know where you are."

She only continued to hide, giggling behind the wooden packages. She could hear his boots thumping on the deck, coming closer and closer. Finally they stopped, and she jumped out and grabbed him around the neck. Caught off guard, Murtagh began to fall forward, Elaina dragging him down with the force of her own weight. With a cry the both fell behind the barrels, knocking a few down in the process. Elaina lay under him, breathless from laughter and Murtagh tried to push himself up. For a moment their eyes locked, and Elaina stopped laughing. For the longest time they stared, until Elaina began to raise her head, reaching for his lips.

"No," Murtagh turned his head, gently stopping her before she kissed him.

"Why?" She asked, hurt in her eyes, "Don't you love me?"

He turned and looked her in the eyes again, and tears welled in her eyes. She saw, in those deep green pools, nothing but the purest love that could possibly be mustered. He frowned, "You couldn't even begin to imagine. . ." Then his face lightened up, and he helped her to her feet, "You're still drunk; it wouldn't have been right." When she said nothing, he laughed nervously, "Are you mad at me?"

She shook her head, hiding her eyes, "No," her legs grew weak, and for the first time tonight she realized how tired she actually was, "never. . ." She slowly fell asleep, falling into the warmth of Murtagh's arms. The sound of his heartbeat was the lullaby that sang Elaina to sleep.

"Good night, princess." Murtagh gathered her in his arms, kissing her lightly on the forehead, and began to walk towards the cabins.

**Study, Uru'baen Castle**

The room was a mess. Maps, books, stray papers, basically anything that could be within hand reach was tossed about and scattered across the floor. Galbatorix, a healthy stream of curses flowing from his mouth, paced back and forth in a blind rage. News of the Skimmers he had sent had returned to him, and none of which was to his liking. The third dragon egg had hatched, Allister was dead, and Murtagh was still free. Oh, he tried to torture the boy when he felt a slight link, but when he was so far away it was difficult to control it, and there was something else. Every time he tried to tap into the oath's magic, it seemed that a painfully blinding light would set off inside his mind, and the link would close. Only once was he able to break through the fading light. _What is it that stops me?_

_Perhaps it is the brother?_ Shruikan suggested, the taste of blood lacing their link. The dragon sat below the window, gnawing at the haunch of cattle. The ancient beast took a few more nibbles, then licked the meat in its entirety into his massive maw.

_No, I don't think so. _He massaged his temples, grinding his teeth, _This light, it feels. . . feminine. _His eyes shot open, _You don't think it could be . . .?_

_I have no doubt in my mind. When I confronted her in front of Thorn, I could sense a sleeping power that might even rival yours._ He growled as old bones moved and stretched, _That is, your power alone. Combined, she is still no match for us._

Galbatorix, slumping into a chair, began to stare out the window, a slight fear in his eye, _And what if the elfs find a way to enhance this power?_ There was silence, and Galbatorix slammed his fist down upon his desk, breaking it in two.


	24. On the Rocks of Vroengarg

**Pale Hope**

**by Namine3419**

**Chapter Twenty-four: On the Rocks of Vroengarg**

**Reviewers: Omg, finally! The stupid thing was down, and I had this chapter finished, like, a week ago. Sorry for the delay; enjoy!****  
**

He left Elaina in her room, gently closing the door behind himself. Murtagh sighed, leaning against the cool wooden walls. He could feel the pulse of the ocean through the grains, making his body feel as though it were flowing along with the current. He felt at peace against that wall, and was quickly drifting off to sleep when a cold hand snapped him back to his senses. Startled, his eyes shot open to see Lian smiling down at him. Annoyed, Murtagh waved him away, grumbling, "Go away, I'm tired."

"Is this how you treat a friend after not talking in weeks?" Lian helped the man up, "Arya told me the 'condition' of your return to Surda. How are you?" The half-elf concealed his concern well, yet there was a slight hint of it behind his blue eyes. Murtagh ignored him, trying to walk away but Lian grabbed him by the arm, "Look, I know how those oaths work, all right? Eragon and Katrina have been worried about you; they watch you whenever they can."

"Toching, really, but I don't need your concern," Murtagh ripped out of Lian's grasp, walking down the hall, "or your sympathy."

Lian, his face turning red, shouted after him, "You know, friends can help you, even in the darkest places!" At that, the half-elf stormed down the hallway, almost knocking over a poor kitchen hand with his arms215 full of flour bags.

_Who's he to think he needs to worry about me?_ Murtagh fumed, reaching the upper decks. He sat on the stairs leading to the steering column, his head resting on entertwined fingers. He could sense Thorn returning, and for a moment he allowed a smile. The dragon had asked earlier if they could go flying, and right now that aspect seemed to be irresistable. The only problem was getting permission to go. A small chuckle escaped him, as a scene of himself asking Eragon 'permission' to go flying. _I go from one master to another._ Murtagh sighed and leaned back on the stairwell, each step slick with midnight dew. The stars were sparkling in a clear, moonlit night, the sound of the wind slowly passing through his ears. He closed his eyes, taking in every inch of the moment. Murtagh smiled as an image of Elaina appeared behind his eyelids, her sweet smile lighting up the darkness of the night.

Opening his eyes, Murtagh cursed, _If I keep thinking this way, she'll be killed or worse._ A deep feeling of regret and anger welled up inside him, as though his stomach would emplode from the weight of it all. His fists were clenched, his jaw locked, and his eyes burned with a bright fury. It wasn't fair; nothing ever was. First it was his mother, who died only weeks after returning to him. He'd heard many of the servants say that she died from grief over his scar, yet as the years went on many rumors were spread that she died from a broken heart. Then it was Tornac, his closest friend. Images of that horrible night flashed in his mind, and he had to fight back hot tears that welled in the corners of his eyes. Ajihad, someone he'd just recently met, had also died because of him. The man would've never recieved that blow to the chest had he not been trying to protect him from the Urgal. The Twins had jinxed him before he could help the man, and his mind was to cloudy to remember what happened afterward.

Sounds of the water breaking woke him from his trance, and Murtagh stood, quickly walking to the edge of the ship. Bright yellow eyes stared at him from below the water, _Saphira said she'd talk to Eragon, if you wanted to fly._ Thorn's head emerged from the water's surface, his wings stretched out and floating ontop of the water, _There's this island not to far from here that we've found; it looks interesting._

_An island? _Murtagh scanned his memory for any bits of land in the northern sea, but his mind stayed blank; he never really worried about the north. Shrugging, he asked, _How far is it? I doubt they'll allow me to travel to far from the boat._

_Maybe a few miles. It will take the ship the rest of the night and maybe all of morning to reach it, but if you ride me, maybe a few hours. _

_You really want to go, don't you?_ An amused smile traced his lips, _Is Eragon even awake? What makes you think he'll--_ He stopped as the make-shift door creaked open. Eragon walked out of the opening, his face hidden behind the hood of his cloak. Murtagh turned, surprised at the rage he'd just felt burning in him. Just the sight of the boy filled his heart with fury, enough to engulf him in a flame of hatred. He laughed to himself, _I guess my previous statement struck a note._

_What?_ Thorn asked, his whole body resurfacing. Saphira wasn't far behind him, her white spikes visible in the pale moonlight. _What's wrong, your nerves are shot._

_Don't worry about it, _Murtagh said, wrapping his arms around his cloak for warmth. He could hear Eragon coming closer, every footstep making him grind his teeth. Murtagh stared up into the night sky, _I think I'm beginning to hate my brother._

A rumbling laughter shook the water beneath him, _It is just because of circomstances. I'm sure a little bit of flying with brighten your mood._

Eragon stopped a few steps behind him, _Let's hope you're right. _Murtagh turned, a small smirk raising the corner of his mouth, "Brother."

"Murtagh," Eragon sighed, "I know you're angry at me." The younger Rider lowered his hood, revealing a sorrowful face, "I can tell by the way you move around me. You tense up, and your face turns cold." He laughed slightly, "It's how you looked in the desert."

"I'm not mad at, _you,_" Murtagh waved his hand, frustration in his voice, "I just don't like being treated like a rabid dog. I know it's for the best, but it just irks me to think that I have to have _permission_ from someone to do even the smallest of things."

Eragon moved beside him, watching as Saphira leveled herself next to the boat. For a long while he was silent, then he turned to Murtagh, a mocking smile on his face, "Is that what this is about?"

An annoyed eyebrow rose from Murtagh's forehead, "What?"

"You're mad because you can't go flying without me?" Murtagh's glare only intensified as Eragon burst out laughing. It took a few moments for him to calm down. Catching his breath, he gasped, "Sorry."

"Oh no, have your fun." A sly grin played across his face as Murtagh slung one leg over the edge of the boat, "But know this; I don't need permission if I plan to go anywhere," he leaped down, landing on Thorn's back, "I just need to be faster than you!"

"Murtagh!" His brother's demand was drowned out by the virocity of Thorn's wing beats. In a few seconds they were gone into the air, only a blur of motion in the sky. Cursing, Eragon waited for Saphira to rise up high enough for him to ride, _We have to go after them._

_I told you they would do something like this, _Saphira crooned, _Thorn's been itching to race me._

_Well, _Eragon held on tightly as Saphira rocketed from the ship, _he's getting his wish!_

Murtagh whistled as he turned and saw Eragon and Saphira catching up, _They're pretty good._

_Not as good as us!_ Straightening his neck, Thorn soared up into the sky, climbing and climbing until the air was thinner. A taunting roar flew from his mouth, _Let's see them catch up now._

Eragon watched as the two sailed dangerously high, _Are they mad?_

_Should I stay where I am?_ Saphira asked, keeping pace with the red dragon.

He watched them for a moment longer, _No, follow them. They're not nearly as high as we went._

_Hang on!_ Saphira shot upward, scaling mile for mile as the cold wind battered her young Rider's exposed face.

Soon they were nothing but two spots racing across the night sky, like shooting stars. Murtagh leaned against Thorn's scales, laughing wildly as he watched Eragon catching up to him. They were only a few yards away, and nothing that he and Thorn did shook them off their trail. The two dragons were as graceful as swans in the air, performing acrobatic feats that were incomprable to the mind. Thorn had once tried swirling downward, dangerously close to plummeting into the cold water. As Saphira copied his movement, the dragon pulled up just in time to skim the water's surface, Saphira pulling out of her dive in time to soar past him. She quickly turned to face the other dragon, but Thorn had already rose up some fifty feet, flying past her.

The red dragon dove behind a cloud bank, concealing his entire form. Caustiously, Saphira soared upward, skimming the underbelly of the white puffs above. It was quiet, the only noise was the ocean below. _I don't like this, _Saphira said, sniffing the air. In this northern airstream she could smell nothing, leaving them totally vunurable. Her eyes scanned the blank horizon, finding nothing but sea and stars.

A small whistling noise buzzed above them. Instantly Eragon jerked his head up, watching as the clouds parted. Murtagh, a cocky grin spread on his face, flew past them, shouting, "Hey!" Just as quickly, Thorn dove from his hiding spot, shooting directly towards his Rider. The wind from the dragon's descent nearly knocked Saphira out of balance. Eragon cursed, but laughed despite himself. As Thorn leveled out, Murtagh safely in the saddle, he urged Saphira forward, catching up to the others quickly.

As the race went on, Eragon finally came neck and neck with Murtagh. A furious scowl furrowed the younger boy's brow as he shouted, "Turn back now, Murtagh!"

"Back?" Laughter exploded from within him, "But we're having so much fun!" Thorn zoomed ahead of them, lowering down to the water's surface. He began to slow, _What is it?_

_Look, _Thorn blew a small fireball forward, illuminating the night. In the distance, almost invisible, was a gigantic fog bank. A small trace of fear traced their link, _That's where the island I told you about was, but, _Thorn stopped, hovering in the air, _something's different about it._

"What do you think you're doing?!" Eragon shouted, Saphira lowering herself enough to hover with Thorn.

"Sh! Quiet," Murtagh strained his eyes, a cold chill running through his spine, "something about this fog; it isn't right." He saw Eragon's face go pale, "You notice it too?"

"We should turn back," he said, sitting straighter, "we could get lost in that bank."

_I know where the island is, _Thorn said, moving closer to the mist.

_Thorn, no. We need to get back,_ but the dragon ignored his demands. _Thorn, turn back!_ The red dragon zoomed past Saphira, straight into the unknown mist. Murtagh cursed, the mist already wrapping him inside its damp blanket. Nothing could be seen, sound didn't travel through the vapors, and he was all alone with a disobedient dragon. Murtagh leaned back, _Thanks for listening._

_I want to see what's wrong._

_Then let me help._ Concentrating, Murtagh lifted his hand, reaching for the magic, "Reisa du rakr!" The fog looked like a gigantic cloud being torn apart by a verocious wind, tiny holes peeping glances at the night sky. More then a little exhausted, Murtagh fell onto Thorn's scales, his eyes closed and his breath haggared.

_Murtagh!_

"I. . ." He panted heavily, his eyes fluttering open, "I'm alright."

The dragon slowed, _It's because of the oath, isn't it?_ There was no answer, _Why won't you let me help you?_

_I'm not blocking anything, Thorn. _He rose on shakey arms, _I just feel weak, is all. _Murtagh looked up, his eyes widening instantly. Before them loomed a desolate, forboding place of jagged rocks and harsh beaches. In the distance he saw a massive tower, rising out from the depths of the island's heart. The edifice held a haunting magesty, an admiration for the building welling up inside of both dragon and Rider. _What is that place?_

"Murtagh! Thorn!" Eragon and Saphira dashed forward, cutting through the left over mist. Dew dripped from his hair, "What was that about? I thought we were going to go ba--" Murtagh held up a hand to hush him, "Not this time! We go back, now!"

"Would you look in front of you, idiot?!" Saphira growled, but Murtagh ignored her.

Fuming, Eragon moved his head, only to have any expression on his face be replaced with instant shock. Still gaping forward, Eragon asked, "Do you know where we are?" Murtagh shook his head; Thorn was silent. "That is the home of the Riders," Eragon smiled, "that is Doru Areaba!"

"Vroengrag?" Disbelief tugged at his face. Murtagh scratched his chin, "Are you sure? This could be an Emperial watchtower."

"Have you ever heard of one this far north?"

"Well no, but. . ."

"Then this is it!" This time it was Eragon's turn to fly forward. Saphira lungged forward, leaving the older Rider behind. "Come on! What's so scary about an abandoned island?!" Exclaimed Eragon, disappearing in the night's darkness. Murtagh shook his head, following his younger brother into the darkness.

**Vroengrag**

Bones. Nothing but bones and death lay over the cursed landscape. Scars from either claws or burns littered the land, and bone after bone was stacked high enough to cover the hilly terrain. The grimness of death was thick in his thoughts as Murtagh scanned for the younger Rider and his dragon. Thorn had taken flight, making sure to stay close incase he was ambushed.

It took him a while to find Eragon again. Murtagh glared at the ground angrily, disgust and hatred growing with each step. _My father had a hand in this, this. . ._ Leaning down, he picked up the remnants of a baby dragon's skull, _slaughter. _Something shifted in the dark, and Murtagh quickly turned, cursing himself for not bringing Zar'roc. His fists were clenched, ready for anything; a pile of bones tumbled down the hillside. A scream, a body rolling down the hill, and Murtagh cursed, clutching his heart, "Eragon!" He lifted the boy angrily, "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

He dusted himself off, "Sorry." He sighed, looking back at the desicrated mess, "This is horrible."

Murtagh shoved the hatchling skull in his face, "Not so scary here, huh?" He tossed it down angrily, "Where's Saphira?"

"She went looking for you, but," he was quiet for a moment, his eyes closed, "she's on her way back. Where's Thorn?"

He stretched and looked up, "He's doing the same thing Saphira was, hopefully." It took him a moment to get Thorn's attention. A picture of a small meadow, lush and green popped into his head, _Where are you?_

_A little north of you; I've already told Saphi--_

"Saphira says Thorn's found something," Eragon stated, beginning to walk north. The sun was starting to rise.

_We'll be there in a minute._ Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Murtagh followed behind Eragon, keeping check with Thorn to make sure they were going in the right direction.

It took them little over an hour to get over the unforgiving land. Happy to see green earth once more, Eragon rushed down to meet Saphira in the meadow, falling to the soft grass. Murtagh smiled, to tired to make any comment, and looked for Thorn. The red dragon was near a small lake, his long neck snaking over the cool liquid and drinking vigorously. Strange, unfamiliar plantlife littered the grounds. There were tiny pink and blue flowers twice the size of his fist swaying in a gentle breeze, vines ranging from yellows to purples traced up the scattered willow trees like veins. And beyond this beauty Murtagh couldn't help but feel uneasy. _This is to calm._ Then he noticed the many buds that littered the ground.

Small, red and black bulbes scattered beneath their feet. A small bird came to rest beside one, and Murtagh watched in horror as the plant opened and sprayed five needle-like spores from its center. The bird was impaled instantly, dead before it even hit the ground. "Eragon!" Murtagh ran towards his brother, who was examining the plant much like the bird was. The bulb began to open, and before it could shoot its deadly arrows, Murtagh slung his arm infront of Eragon's neck. He cried out, seering pain shooting through his veins. Murtagh couldn't tell what happened next; his vision grew cloudy. The wind caught his hair, and he could barely feel an arm wrapped around his stomach as his body grew colder and colder.

Eragon looked from his brother to the field below, cursing as he watched the once placid meadow turning into a maelstrom of poisonous needles. _What type of place is this?_

_We should turn back, before Murtagh gets to ill, _Saphira stated. Thorn flew quickly by their side, a worried eye resting on his Rider.

Eragon placed a hand on his forehead, the warmth burning his palm. Delerious mutterings flew from the poisoned man's mouth and Eragon frowned, "If we've never heard of this plant, then I doubt that anyone on the boat will have. And besides, he's to weak to fly over the ocean now."

_If we wait, he could get worse._

_I could fly ahead and find the ship, _Thorn, his thoughts slightly fuzzy, exploded into Eragon's mind. _I can show them where we are, and bring someone with food and water._

Saphira straightened her wings, _What do you think?_

"I'm afraid that he'll get worse out in the sun," he looked back at the tower, "tell them to meet us here. Avoid this field if you can." He smiled reasuringly at Thorn, "If this is the place I think it is, then there has to be something about that plant in that tower."

_Let's pray you're right. _With that, Thorn flew forward, reaching a speed that Eragon had never thought possible.


	25. The Rock of Kuthian

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Twenty-five: The Rock of Kuthian**

**Reviewers: I'm soooo sorry it took me so long to update again. God does NOT want me to have a computer! Lol!! Anyway, this one is **_**long**_** Like, seriously, I don't think I've written this much in my life. I hope you guys enjoy it; I had a lot of fun writing it. Please review, so I know who is still reading this!**

**Blah: For those who wanted some of my pictures: Since I had to get a new computer (My other one's power source died), all my scans were deleted. But, well, that's what I get for not putting them on PhotoBucket or MySpace, huh? Give me a few more days, and I promise you'll be able to see them. Actually, I think I have a picture of Murtagh on my MySpace. Look up my name, Namine3419, or Kumari, and you should be able to find me.**

Thorn darted towards the ocean, the wind battering his face with its icy kiss. He searched frantically for the _Dragon Wing, _trying to remember which direction the boat lay. The sun was high now, sparkling off of the ocean's surface. The sky was cloudless, and birds who dared live so close to that accursed island chirped and cawed angrily as Thorn skimmed across the sea. Everytime he tried to contact his Rider, the dragon met a frightening and evil chorus of voices, unable to reach his Rider's thoughts. _I have to hurry!_ Determined, Thorn angled his wings straight, trying to sniff out the ship.

It took him hours to find it again. The boat was in an uproar, the sailers and soldiers alike running around frantically, calling out both Murtagh's and Eragon's names. Someone spotted him, and Thorn flew closer, rising up so that he was level with the boat. The person waving was Lian, Jeod and Katrina next to him. He was out of breath, and his voice was nervous, "Thorn, where's Murtagh? We've been searching for you, Eragon, and Saphira all morning!"

_We need help, now!_ He was almost crazy with worry, his eyes darting in every direction. His wings were beating with such intensity that Katrina was almost knocked off her feet. Luckily Jeod had grabbed her wrist before she could fall back.

Lian covered his face, "Calm down! What's happened? Where have you been?"

_There's an island not to far from here, maybe a few miles. If we angle north, the ship can dock on one of the shores . . ._

"North of here is Vroengard," Jeod said, the astonishment and excitement barely hidden in his words. He smiled, "The ancient island of the Riders!"

_That's not the point! Murtagh's hurt; poisoned! I need someone's help, now!_ He started whimpering, _I don't know how much longer he'll last._

Katrina frowned, "I'll go find Elaina; she'll want to know."

"And I'll find my sister," Lian patted Thorn's nose, "if anyone can help, it's her."

As they walked away, Jeod's face grew serious as he asked, "Where can we find them? Can you show me?"

Thorn nodded, connecting even further with Jeod's mind. The old man gasped from the unfamiliar sensation, watching as a million pictures flashed before his eyes. He saw a bone-littered landscape with unforgiving terrain. The sky was dark, and the land was cursed with deadly plantlife. A tower loomed over this forbidden isle, its tip shadowed in the darkness of a cloud. Once the images stopped, he cursed, leaning against the railing. He regained himself, "Why would you go to such a place?"

Thorn growled, _We were going to turn back, but Eragon wanted to keep going._

"Are you sure you didn't as well?" Thorn was silent, "It doesn't matter; I'll arrange the course and we'll arrive as quickly as we can."

_Thank you._ As Jeod was turning, Arya and Lian reappeared, the she-elf's face serious and fearful.

"Tell me what has happened." Her cool, dark-green eyes narrowed as she stood in front of the massive beast.

_There isn't enough ti--_

"Tell me, or I do not go," she held her head high, "I trust neither you or your Rider, so you will tell me everything before I even _attempt_ to ride you."

Thorn growled as he recounted every detail of Murtagh's poisoning. By the time he was finished, Elaina had arrived, her eyes wide with fear. He looked at her, _Good morning. . ._

She nodded shakily, _Good morning. . ._ Anxiety and worry flooded her mind, _Can you carry me with you?_

_I can easily fly three, so yes, you can come._ He snaked his head closer and licked her cheek, _I'll feel more comfortable with you around; Murtagh seems to do better when you are with him._She smiled, her eyes briming with tears.

Arya frowned, "We should leave now; I'm not sure what has befallen Murtagh but it is an evil that must be dealt with quickly." She turned to Elaina, who was wiping away her tears, "Can you get some food and water?"

When she removed her hand, Elaina held her head high, reminding Arya of her mother when she was faced with disaster, "I'll be back in a few minutes. I'll bring blankets too, just in case." As she darted away, Arya began to climb on Thorn's back, awaiting the other girl.

**Vroengard**

_He was running, but going no where. He couldn't see in this haze of gray that was now his world. Chains wrapped around his arms, legs, and neck, slowing him to an unbarable pace as he tried to escape his invisible monster. He could here the angry voices, calling out his name, over and over again. He tripped, and tried to push himself up, but another chain shot from the ground and laced around his torso, sqeezing him against the cold, hard ground. Murtagh paniced, watching as a great shadow came closer and closer. The gray soon dispersed, and in a new darkness stood his father, a sickening grin playing across his face, "You'll never be like me, boy." Zar'roc appeared in his hand, catching a deadly gleam, "I would dodge this blow." Murtagh screamed as the blade sailed through the air, slicing open his back. . ._

Eragon, dropping every volume that was in his hands, rushed over to his screaming brother. He watched in horror as Murtagh tossed and turned, sweat beading on his forehead. The older Rider's skin had grown a sickly gray, his veins turning black and visible. The puncture wounds made by the needles oozed a sweet smelling liquid, the puss-like flow mixing with his blood to make a pinkish color. Eragon cursed, trying to hold him down, _I don't know what to do. . . _He'd tried to heal him with words from the ancient language, but to no avail; this poison was immune to it.

_Keep looking for answers, _Saphira said, gently pinning Murtagh down with one of her talons. He was breathing through clenched teeth, _It's the best thing you can do for him._

Eragon nodded, returning to his search. By some miracle they'd found a library big enough to hold himself and Saphira twenty-times over. The ceiling reached up to an alomst unbelievable hight, each wall laced with volume after volume. Dispar had threated to overtake him, until he noticed that each row and column were catagorized into a specific subject. That made it a little simpler, however, there were still hundreds, if not thousands, of books and scrolls on what he was searching for. Still in the plant-life section, Eragon began to grow frustrated and tired, as each piece of paper turned out fruitless. He slammed a book down, frustrated, "This is impossible!"

_Eragon!_ Saphira cried, ignoring his aggitation, _come down here quickly! Something's wrong._

Sliding down the ladder, Eragon rushed over, kneeled beside the other Rider, to find that the corners of Murtagh's mouth were bloody. He gently opened his mouth, finding that he'd bitten his tounge. "Damn. . .!" He sighed, "I hope this works." He placed his hand over Murtagh's mouth, making sure that he was concentrating on the punctured tounge. "Waise heill!" Murtagh's cheeks glowed for a slight second, making his veins even more noticable, then faded away as the magic subsided. Eragon opened his mouth again to check for progress, "Good," he sighed, falling back on his butt, "it worked."

_His heart is growing fainter; there isn't much time left._ Saphira snapped her head up, here eyes alert, _Thorn is coming._ She sniffed the air once more, then roared.

_What was that for?!_ Eragon asked, removing his hands from his ears.

_To tell them which floor we were on,_ she grew more hopeful with every word, _Arya and Elaina are with him._

Eragon rushed to the nearest window, taking only seconds to spot the flying dragon. He smiled, shouting, "Over here! In here!" He was waving his arms in an attempt to catch their already aware attention. He could make out Arya's raven hair, which was tied back in a bun, and Elaina sitting behind her, hair streaming beind her. Thorn roared in response, and Eragon watched as the dragon sped up to reach him.

They arrived in moments, Arya leaping from Thorn's saddle and rushing to Murtagh's body. Elaina, lacking the mobility of an elf, slid down slowly. Eragon caught her before she hit the ground, "Is he any better?" Her words were frantic.

Eragon frowned, unable to meet her eyes, "No. His fever worsens by the second, and I can't contact him through his mind."

She bit her lower lip, darting her eyes from Eragon to where Murtagh lay. Elaina watched as Arya sqwated next to him, placing two fingers on the middle of his forehead. "What's she doing?"

"She's trying to read his mind," Eragon shrugged, his voice holding slight optimism, "maybe she can succeed where I could not."

It seemed like hours for Thorn and Saphira, who were to big to search for any books. While Arya tried to contact the unconscious Murtagh, Elaina and Eragon had split into two parts; the health and plant section. Piles of books, scrolls, and pamphlets lay scattered across the floor, and some were so old that they turned to dust once touched. They prayed that those who did held nothing important. No one stopped to eat; the task was to demanding. Everyone was tense, the only noise was of Murtagh's occasional yelp or scream. Thorn nelt his head beside his Rider, his eyes growing duller by the minute. Saphira eyed him worriedly, _Are you going to be all right?_

He snorted, unable to lift his head, _If we don't find something soon, I won't be._ He tried to laugh, but was to weak. Deep inside him a great fear consumed him; he knew that he and his Rider were dying, it was only a matter of time.

"I've found him!" Eragon and Elaina hurried from their platforms, rushing over to the crouching elf. She was smiling, but there was a worry in her eye that unsettled everyone, "He's very weak, but I think I know what is wrong now."

"Well?" Eragon asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Arya stood, stretching her legs, "The poison is spreading through his limbs, but most of his vital organs have been untouched. His mind is playing tricks on him, and sadly, the brain only thinks that it's dying."

"So, you're saying that he's killing himself?"

"In a way, yes. When he came two, he was still delierous, and I could feel the poison creeping closer, trying to block me out. And those voices," she shuddered, "curse Galbatorix and his dark magics."

Elaina, growing frustrated, snapped, "This isn't important! How do we help him?"

Arya coughed, "Sorry." She began to walk towards the door, motioning Elaina to follow her, "Come with me. I think that Vrael's room is just above the library. Since he sung this plant, I'm sure he'll have some sort of clue to an antidote inside a journal."

Elaina stepped forward, then looked to Thorn. She leaned over, hugging his nose just as she did for what seemed so long ago, "It'll be alright; I'm going to save both of you." He growned quietly, then licked her hand. She smiled, then rushed to Arya before the dragon could see her tears. Once beside her, she nodded, "Let's go."

"We'll be back soon."

"Be careful," Eragon said, waving. He then retrieved the water from the bag Elaina had brought. He sighed, walking back to his brother, who had stopped mumbling and now seemed to be in a nightmare-filled sleep. Sitting down, Eragon gently lifted Murtagh's head and dribbled a little water into his mouth. He drank none of it. _There has to be something I can do._ He looked around the room once more, groaning in frustration when nothing seemed to pop out.

Saphira craned her neck upward, staring into the darkness of the tower, _Eragon, there's something up there._

_What?_ He looked up, but even with his new eyes could not see what she did. _Could you show me? I don't think I could climb that high._

_I don't want to leave Thorn alone--_

_I'm alright,_ Thorn barely lifted his head, _I can watch Murtagh. If anything happens, I'll contact you._

She looked unsure of herself, _Well. . ._ Standing up, Saphira waited for Eragon to climb onto her back, _We'll be back soon. I promise._

_I know. . ._ He said weakly, _I know._ He watched with lazy eyes as the saphire dragon and her Rider soared up into the endless tower, disappearing in its haunting shadows.

_This is endless!_ Eragon exclaimed, staring at book-after-book as the soared higher and higher. _There must be books here that are from the old continent!_

_I can't believe Galbatorix didn't have them burned._

_He probably thought no one would find this place._ Squinting his eyes, Eragon searched for what Saphira had seen. Suddenly, he noticed a blank spot in the wall of books. It was of gray sandstone, a strange glyph imprinted on its middle. _Is that what you saw?_

_Yes; hang on._ She glided to the edge, letting Eragon use one of her legs to reach the balcony beside her. He leaped down, touching the stone. He traced the insignia with his index finger, a puzzled look on his face. Saphira rolled the picture around in her head until she remembered the glyph, _Eragon, say your name._

_What?_ He looked at her quizically, _why?_

_Just do it; I think I know where we are._

_Well, all right. _ He shrugged, backing away slightly. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Eragon."

Nothing happened.

"Well, that was fun, but--whoa!" The tower shook, and the floor he was on began to cave in. Quickly leaping onto Saphira, Eragon watched as the wall before him exploded into a million tiny pieces, the dust blowing away out of the few windows that were scattered this high up. A cold, almost eerie air touched his cheeks, and far off into the distance he saw something that was glowing red. Eragon looked down to make sure Murtagh and Thorn weren't pummeled by the falling rock, then asked, "You don't think this is the place Solembum was talking about, do you?"

_Well, _she began to fly into the cave, _lets find out._ Her head peaked in first, then her torso with Eragon, her legs, and finally her tail. As they entered further, they seemed to disappear behind and invisble cloud, nothing more of the two was visible.

**Vrael's Room**

It was a mess, which, thanks to the vigourous searching of the two women, was in even more of a disaster. What was left of the bed had been flipped over, the mattress and blankets strewn across the floor. The desk was shattered, yet any paperwork that lay on it was left in neat order. Elaina wiped the sweat from her forehead, "This is rediculous! Who would hide a journal so well?"

"Vrael had many secrets," Arya said, her voice strangely light. She was shifting through a dresser, "When I was little, he would tease me about my inability to keep my mouth shut." A sad smile spread across her face, "I do miss him."

Elaina dropped everything that was in her hands, "You knew Vrael?! THE Vrael?!"

Arya eyed her flatly, "I'm very old in your years, so do not be surprised by the people I know." She laughed lightly, "In fact, I even had the honor of meeting the old king and his family before. . ." She frowned, hiding her face, "Before Galbatorix and his minions slaughtered their house."

Feeling awkward, Elaina quickly changed the subject, "I'm going to go check the dragon's bed. . ."

"You know," she slammed a dresser draw shut, "you have an astounding resemblance to the old queen." She eyed her suspiciously, "How old are you?"

"M-me?" She squeaked, remembering Lian's advice not to let anyone know who she was. She laughed, trying to contain her nervousness, "I'm, well, I don't really know, but at least seventeen or eighteen. Shera couldn't really tell how old I was, so we just guess."

Arya advanced towards the dragon's nest, "Because you know, we elves blessed the Angrenost family with long life, and the dragon's gifted them with a power like their own." She looked straight into Elaina's eyes, "May I see your back, please?"

Her hand shot to her tattoo, "Why?"

Arya burst out laughing, "Sorry, I was just playing with you." A sad smile spread across her cat-like features, "Vrael told me that jokes make sad times better, and help you find the thing you're looking for." She clapped her hands, walking towards the gigantic mattress, "Alright! Can you help me lift this thing?"

Sighing in relief, Elaina ran towards her, "Hang on!"

They struggled for the longest time, removing old debris from where the ceiling had caved in, and lifting the mat itself. The thing weight three times their combined weight, and even Arya's elven strenght was put to the test of this massive sleeping mat. After a few moments of wiggiling, the girls finally removed the mattress, revealing a smooth, cool surface made of marble. The only flaw in the beautiful flooring was a small hole, big enough for a finger. Elaina grinned, "Found it."

Arya walked forward, placing her finger into the hole. She lifted slightly, and a tiny door was revealed. Inside lay a small tome, dust collecting on its face. Gently lifting the book from its nest, Arya began to walk towards the nearest light. Underneath the window, Arya opened a book that hadn't seen the light of day in over fifty years. . .

**Library, The Vault of Souls**

Eragon felt light headed, and nothing would please him more but to close his eyelids and go to sleep. He leaned his head against Saphira's scales, letting her warmth overtake him. He sighed contently, drifting off into sleep. . .

. . . He awoke, walking in a green field. He could hear someone playing a small flute, almost like a morning bird singing its first song of the day. It called out to Eragon, and he ran as quickly as he could to find the mysterious sound. As he ran, someone else began to catch up with him. He was an elderly fellow with a long beard and intense gray eyes, a proud demenour followed his gate. Eragon's heart almost leaped out of his chest, "Brom . . .?"

He nodded, the familiar voice of the old man echoing through the field, "Keep your eyes straight, we have a long way to go."

Eragon smiled, then turned to his destination. They ran for a few more minutes until another form began to run beside them. A tear ran down his face, for beside him was his dead uncle, his dear Garrow. He couldn't speak, but the old man did for him, "I've missed you too, but we'll talk once we get to the meadow."

"Meadow?" He stumbled, not noticing the hill. At least a mile off was a beautiful meadow, full of wild flowers and willow trees. A small brook rested between two boulders, and in the center was a cutdown tree, someone sitting on the stump. It was the flutist. Eragon quickened his pace, finding the song more and more irresistable. Soon the sound of soft footfalls came from behind him, and his heart leaped as he saw the face of his aunt.

Marian gave him a sweet smile, "I've missed you, dear."

He nodded, his heart overjoyed with the ability to see all these lost faces. Then a strange feeling exploded inside himself, and he spoke aloud, "Am I dead?"

A cool, smooth hand grabbed his own, and Eragon looked into the eyes of who he knew belong to his mother. Selena, he light brown hair dancing as they ran, said, "No, my sweet babe, you have to much left to do."

For a moment, he wanted nothing but to stop running and embrace this woman that ran beside him. Here was his mother, the woman he'd never seen yet always loved, holding his hand as they headed towards a mystical valley. He swallowed a lump in his throat, and said the only word that came to mind, "H-hello."

Selena laughed, then stared ahead with a look that reminded him of Murtagh, once something was in his mind, "We'll say hello soon, but for now, you need to talk to him."

As he grew closer, he noticed that it was an elf playing the flute. His long, silver hair reached well beyond his stump, resting peacfully on the ground around him. He swayed back-and-forth with his tune, deep, ancient blue eyes only rising for a moment to greet the newcomers. The song went on, bouncing and playing upon Eragon's ears, until it suddenly slowed, growing softer and softer. The song began to grow sadder, and with it Eragon felt an overwhelming melancholy take over him. As he stood there, hand-in-hand with his mother, a tear ran down his face. Unable to contain himself, he asked, "Who are you?"

The elf was silent, then pulled the flute from his graceful lips, "I am that of who you were named after. I am the first of our kind, and the keeper of all our secrets. I am you, and I am not you." He smiled, "I am Eragon."

For some reason, Eragon did the last thing he would have thought of. He curled his wrist in that strange way the elves did, and saluted. The ancient elf lifted his fingers to his lips, "Atra esterni ono thelduin, Mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr, Un du evarinya ono varda."

Eragon lifted his hand to his lips, continuing the elven ritual, "Atra gulia un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waise skolir fra rauthr."

The old elf laughed, the sound that of a million tiny song birds, "Very good, Eragon-vor. It lessens my worries to know that the fate of our beloved Alagesia is in the hands of one so knowledgable."

From behind him, he could hear Brom saying, "Good job." Eragon stood straight, "Pardon my questioning, Eragon-elda, but," he hesiated, looking at all those who surrounded him, "Why am I here?"

This time it was Selena who answered, "We're here to help you, and all who live in Alagesia." She smiled, "This is the Vault of Souls, a place where you can call upon the strength of those who have left this world to help you."

"Like a sorcerer?!" Fear bolted in his heart, "No! I could never do that!"

"Listen sweetie," Marian placed her hands on his shoulder, "It isn't like that. Instead of being possessed by us, we become a part of you."

Garrow laughed, "But you won't be able to feel us."

"Your magical and physical strenght will grow, and with this new power," Brom smirked, his eyes alight, "you could defeat Galbatorix." The elder Eragon nodded in confirmation.

"And what of Murtagh?" He asked.

Selena hid her face, yet tears were visibly falling from her eyes, "Unless you kill Galbatorix, there is nothing you can do. . ."

The elder Eragon smiled comfortingly, "Dear lady, that is not true." He closed his eyes, and a few moments went by. They snapped back open, revealing nothing but white where crystal blue eyes had once been, "_As the chains of fate tighten, and darkness surrounds the soul. A pale shine of hope will illuminate the darkness, and love will release all bonds. . ." _The old elf shuddered, then opened his eyes again to smile kindly at them, "There is always hope, dear woman. Do not distress." His face grew more serious, and he turned to Eragon, "Now, for the matter of his poisoning. When you awaken, you shall be in the chamber of the Rock of Kuthian. It is in that stone where Vrael placed his trust in healing magics. At it to the Belt of Beloth the Wise; it should help you."

The world began to fade away, the meadow disappearing, leaving them to stand in nothing but darkness. First Brom disappeared, waving a hand and smiling, mouthing, "I'm proud of you two." Eragon felt as thought the old man had disappeared, but then a small blue orb flew from where he was previously standing, and floated into Eragon's chest. A warm sensation filled his body, and already he could feel the affect of the magic.

Next was Garrow. The old man stared at him sternly, "Tell Roran that he should've married that girl, before getting her pregnant!" He was smiling, but Marian slapped his arm, as the two disappeared and joined Eragon's body.

Selena, a sad smile on her face, held out her arms. For the first time in his life, Eragon felt the embrace of his true mother. She stroked his hair, "I'm always with you, both of you. . ." Her arms began to glow, and she too turned into a blue orb. Eragon felt his body burning with the new power.

Lastly, the elder elf stared at him with knowing, solumn eyes, "I know of the burden you carry, and my heart goes out to you." He smiled warmly, "You mustn't tell anyone that I've shared my power with you," he winked, "espically that young one, Vanir."

Eragon laughed sadly, "Yes," he wiped the tears from his eyes, and from the bottom of his heart, he whispered, "Thank you." The ancient elf said nothing, but only smiled. As he fused with Eragon's body, the boy collapsed on the floor, slowly coming back to the human world. . .

**Vrael's Room**

Arya cursed, slamming her fist against the wall, "Paranoid old coot!"

"What's wrong?"

She shoved the book into Elaina's hand, "Read it." She looked at her suspiciously, "Go on!"

Elaina opened the volume carefully, raising an eyebrow, "What's the matter?"

"He wrote that book in a code--"

"I can read it just fine," Elaina interrupted.

"--That only the human royal family could read." Arya frowned, "Elaina, turn around." The girl sighed, but did as she was told. A chill ran up her spin as the elf lifted her blouse, revealing the three-headed dragon, "Elaina. . . you're. . .!"

"Lian told me not to tell anyone. . ."

Arya shook herself, regaining her composure, "This isn't the time. Right now, you need to find out about that plant." She rubbed her eyes, "But afterwards, we have much to talk about. Especially if you plan to enter Ellesmera."

She shook her head nervously, "R-right." Elaina skimmed page after page, finally finding something about a deadly plant. "Here it is!" She sat on the floor, reading as she slid down the wall, "It says that he created this plant during the Fall, in an attempt to keep Galbatorix's foot soldiers away from the tower. The plant was to deadly, however, and he scrapped the project."

"So then why are there so many out in the field?"

"They must've escaped somehow," Elaina shrugged. She read on, "It says here that the only way to cure him is with, um. . ." Her eyes were squinted, "The Rock of Kuthian?" She was about to ask what that was, when they heard Murtagh screaming from below them, "Come on!" She dashed out the door, Arya close behind.

**Library**

Eragon emerged from the Vault, the glowing stone held tightly in his hand. Saphira dived to the bottom, not wasting anymore time. She had lost contact with Thorn, and could barely sense his life-force now. Panic was the fuel behind her speed, the wind whistling past both dragon and Rider. Books, of that which were left after that tiny quake, fell from their shelves as she plummeted towards the floor, the ancient volumes exploding in a cloud of dust.

Once on the ground, Eragon noticed Thorn was barely breathing, Murtagh writhing on the floor. Blood was pouring from his nose and ears, and his screams were like that of a dying wolf. He rushed forward, not noticing Elaina and Arya coming in. Elaina slid across the floor, stopping just before Murtagh's head. She lifted it into her arms, cradling him as Eragon held his gedwey ignasia above Murtagh's eyes. The elder Rider had worn his throat out from yelling. As he reached for the magic, the Stone of Kuthian began to glow, infusing Eragon with so much power that he could hardly contain himself. Without even saying the words, Eragon sucked out the poison that assulted Murtagh's body, watching as the black stream evaporated in thin air.

He stopped shaking. . .

Color began to come back to his cheeks, and Thorn was opening his eyes. . .

His breathing returned to normal, and his eyes fluttered open. A warmth splashed onto his forehead, and Murtagh lifted a shaky hand to wipe away Elaina's tears, "Don't. . . cry. . ." He said in a raspy voice, then falling into a comforting sleep.

Elaina kissed him on the forehead, then began to cry with full force, the danger now subsided.


	26. To The Spine

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Twenty-Six: To The Spine**

**Reviewers: Omg, I am soooooooo sorry it took me so long to update; I've had the worst writer's block! But, well, hopefully I am cured, and you should have another chapter within three to four days. I really hope you guys are still reading this, and I'm, again, extremely sorry for taking so long. Well, if you're still reading I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review (mainly so I know that you guys haven't given up on me).**

It was nightfall by the time everyone returned to the _Dragon Wing. _Elaina flew directly to the boat on Thorn's back, Murtagh resting between her arms. He blushed the whole way, and wouldn't look anyone in the face. As Lian went by laughing, Elaina asked him what the problem was. He wouldn't answer, but Thorn told her he was embarrassed that she had led Thorn instead of him. She laughed, and then helped him find his way below deck.

Jeod had insisted on investigating the island further, for historical purposes. The old man quickly changed his mind, however, for his face turned pale as he looked amongst the many bones that littered the desolate landscape. The crew walked about on cautious feet as they went further into the isle, making sure to avoid any life detected. The downcast sky made the mood all the more depressing, however the men still trudged through the hills and swampy areas, trying to reach the treasure-hold of a library. Eragon laughed as he watched, man by man, the historical side of the library disappear into naked bookshelves. Roran, standing beside Jeod, scratched his chin, "Won't the boat be a lot slower with all that extra weight?"

"Nonsense! That ship can hold these little novels!" A smile that seemed to brighten the whole room emitted from his face, "Just think of it; all the history of our home that Galbatorix would have us ignorant of, once again on Alagesian shores!"

"Roran might have a point," Eragon leapt from the second-story platform, landing like a cat in front of the old man, "it could slow us. I don't want to loose anymore time, and with us so close to Carvahall, Galbatorix might've already sent soldiers to patrol the nearby coasts."

Jeod cursed, "But think of the possibilities!"

"And think of the dangers; what if we are, by some chance, overtaken?" Eragon smiled sadly, "All those books would be burned or sunk with the ship."

Defeated, Jeod sighed, slouching his shoulders. Quickly, he turned around, "Put those books back, boys!" His shouting echoed through the empty halls, "We'll come back for them another day."

As the old man walked out of the room, Roran following closely behind, Eragon rolled his eyes and picked up a nearby book that had been carelessly discarded, "Maybe one won't hurt." With a smile, he rushed out after them, tucking the volume under his shirt.

**Dragon Wing**

Murtagh sat in his bunk, resting his back against the cool headboard, sipping on a glass of water. His strength had yet to fully be restored, but he didn't mind so much; he'd had enough adventure for a while. He smiled contently as the cool liquid slid gently down his throat, soothing the irritated skin. It had been hard for him to speak, as his voice had practically disappeared from all his screaming. His eyes slowly grew heavier and heavier, and he never realized that he'd closed his eyes. . .

"Hey!" Murtagh shot up, almost hitting his head on the bottom of Eragon's bunk. Elaina had to restrain herself from laughing, "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I was wondering if you were hungry; I don't want to go to the dining room alone."

He stretched, shaking his head in an attempt to shake away the sleep from his eyes, "Alright," he yawned, "have Eragon and the others returned yet?"

"Yes," she laughed, "Jeod was so disappointed that we didn't take any of the books with us." She walked over to him and helped him out of the bed, "It's a good thing Eragon brought one book with him, or else that poor old man would've been sulking for the rest of the trip."

"Was he acting," Murtagh paused, searching for the right thing to say, "strange to you? He's been avoiding me since, well," he sighed, "since I awoke."

She shrugged, "You almost died, Murtagh. That was a very frightening experience," Elaina hid her face, her voice quiet, "for all of us."

Murtagh smiled, Come now, don't be like that," he pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, "I'm fine now, so there's nothing to worry about. Now," he laughed, patting his stomach, "let's get something to eat; I'm starving." Elaina shook hear head, then followed him out the door.

It had taken a few more hours than needed to leave the isle of Doru Areaba. The ship had gotten stuck on many scattered sandbanks, the dragons having to help push the vessel free once more. Thorn had been particularly aggravated with one stubborn sand dune, and dove underneath the boat to dig the ship out. When he resurfaced, sand was stuck in between his scales, making him even more aggravated because they made him itch. Saphira rolled her eyes, trying to help him remove the annoying little particles.

The night was pleasant, though everyone knew they were nearing the end of their journey. The air grew colder, the current changed, and the ship now headed eastward instead of north. Within a few hours of the next day, they could see the tops of the foreboding mountain range that was the Spine. Eragon would watch for hours as the ship slowly grew closer and closer to the jagged peaks. Murtagh watched him for a while, and then decided to ask him what was wrong. He walked a little past him, resting crossed arms on the siding of the ship, "Are you alright?"

"Hm?" He blinked, coming out of a daze, "Oh, yes. I was just thinking." A sad smile crossed his face, "I've never seen the Spine from this angle." The wind tossed his hair, "This will be the first time I've seen my home in two years."

"Scared?" He crossed his arms, staring at the looming peaks in the distance. They looked like shark's teeth, jetting up from the ground to devour the sky. He shook as a chill went up his own spine, "There are many stories about the Spine. None of which have a happy ending."

Some of his brother's usual happiness returned to him, and he grinned, "Those are stories, Murtagh. I've been hunting in the Spine for as long as I can remember." He clapped a hand on his shoulder, "As long as we stay together, we'll be fine."

"I hope you're right," he joked, "it would be horrible to suffer through this ocean to die in a mountain." There was a nervous note in his laugh; Eragon raised an eyebrow.

The rest of the day was nothing but preparations. They'd sent out smaller life boats to see how far the nearest shore was, making sure that there were no sandbanks or coral reefs that would damage the _Dragon Wing_. Garrow had pleaded with Jeod and Roran to swim ahead and help, but they'd refused. He ended up sneaking out with Thorn, only to later receive a scolding from both Saphira and his Rider (Thorn thought it was hilarious).

Katrina helped Elaina with packing up clothes, food, blankets, and all the other essentials that the tiny group would need. The red-head wiped her brow, sighing, "Can you ask Orik what he needs?"

Elaina stiffened, "Me?" She pointed a finger to her face, "You want _me _to ask him? Doesn't he hate me?"

"He hates Murtagh, not you," she laughed, "now, go and ask him. I'm not sure what dwarfs need to survive."

She groaned, then sombered out of the room, looking for the tiny dwarf. To tell the truth, she really only wanted to find Murtagh; he'd looked pale today. She knew she was probably driving him mad with all her worrying, but ever since she'd met him, he'd seemed to get into trouble. Elaina sighed, twittling her fingers, "Maybe I should've stayed behind. . ."

"He would've gone mad," Lian rounded a corner, a brown sack slung over his shoulder, "what're you doing?"

"Have you seen Orik?" She asked, a frustrated smile on her face, "I'm not sure where he is, and we need to know what he wants to bring."

With his free hand he scratched his chin, "Well, the last time I saw him he was down in the cellar, praying for his fallen comrades. Oh!" A bright smile spread across his face, "I remember now; I was looking for you. Arya wants to talk to you." He frowned, readjusting the bag on his shoulder, "She sounded urgent; is everything alright?"

"Um. . ." At that moment, she saw a tiny figure appear behind him. She sighed in relief, calling out, "Excuse me, Orik?!" The dwarf turned, squinting his eyes to see who it was. He laughed once when he realized who it was and waved; Elaina frowned, turning back to Lian, "I'll tell you later. I have to go now."

"Alright, keep your secrets." He smiled mischievously, "I've got things to do too."

"I'm really sorry!" She cried as she ran towards the dwarf, glad that he'd decided to wait on her.

Orik, laughing as she took in deep breaths, asked, "What is it lass? I've not known you to hold an audience with me." He rubbed his beard, eyeing her darkly, "This doesn't have anything to do with that . . ._ monster _does it?"

"He's not a--" Elaina closed her mouth, taking a deep breath, "No, it doesn't. Katrina needs to know what you need packed."

"I'm leaving with the ship, so don't worry about it." He saw the surprise on her face, "More then half of my kindred have died on this ship; it is my responsibility to see them home." Orik laughed heartily, "And besides, if I stayed, I would've ended up killing that beast of yours anyway." He began to walk away, "Keep him on a short leash now, least he bite someone." He hurried away, avoiding Elaina's scowls.

"You better hope _I _don't bite someone," she mumbled, storming above deck. Anyone who came into her path shrank away quickly from her anger, afraid that her wrath would fall upon them. She reached the end of the ship, sighed, and leaned over the side of the ship. Her hair caught the wind and she pulled the locks back behind her ear. She smiled despite herself; it was a beautiful day. The sun was high into the afternoon sky, and a cool breeze wafting pleasantly by. It was the perfect type of day to go exploring in the mountains. She could see the not-so-far off land that grew closer and closer with each gust of wind. A small smile spread across her face, "Hi Thorn."

_Are you getting excited?_ She nodded, _me too. I can't wait to get out of this water, _a sense of cool discomfort crossed their link, _This water grows colder and closer with every stroke._

She laughed, _You'll be out soon enough. It's not that far, couldn't you fly there?_

_I--_ He hesitated, yellow eyes reflecting nervously in the shimmering water, _I don't want to go alone._

_Won't Saphira go with you?_

_She's still mad at me for taken Garrow along with the search party._ He sighed, smoke puffing out of his nostrils.

_Well, maybe next time you'll listen. _She laughed, shielding herself as Thorn slashed her as he dove under the ship. Elaina shook her head and continued to stare out at the nearing land. A sense of foreboding suddenly crossed her heart, the same feeling that had sent chills up her spine as enemy Skimmers floated on the horizon. Someone was waiting for them, a foe much more fearsome then five shipfulls of soldiers.

Elaina grew bored, and her thoughts began to wonder. She'd really hadn't had the time to reflect on what had occurred not two days ago, and now it chewed at her like a starving dog. Her hands began to shake as she saw Murtagh's pale, sickened face tossing and turning behind her eyelids. Horrible thoughts began to assault her mind, and she shook wildly as each image passed her mind. A horrible, inescapable fear took over her, and soon she was lost in the darkness of those horrid thoughts. Sinking to the ground, Elaina buried her head into her knees, sobbing quietly. . .

Eragon glanced to his left, spotting a huddled mass at the far end of the ship. Squinting his eyes, he asked, "Is that Elaina?"

"What? Where?" Murtagh followed Eragon's finger and his eyes widened. He didn't say anything else, for he'd jumped down the stairs and bolted towards the girl, who was clearly very upset. He could hear her crying as he dodged sailor after sailor, jumping over loose rope at least twice. Taking two stairs at a time, Murtagh slid on his knees, stopping in front of the crying girl, "What is it?" He put a hand on her back, not really knowing how to comfort her, "What's wrong?"

Suddenly Elaina turned, and he felt small arms wrap themselves around his waist. Her head was buried into his chest, his shirt growing wet with her warm tears, "I'm so scared. . ."

"Elaina . . .?" He laughed nervously, "It's alright; Thorn and I will be with you. And if that doesn't help, Eragon and Saphira are coming too--"

"That's not it!" He grew silent, shocked by her sudden outburst. Tears were streaming down her eyes, "You were dying Murtagh; dying! And I--" She cried out in anguish, "I could do nothing to help you!" Cold fear shot through his heart as Elaina whispered her next sentence, "I don't know what I'd do without you, Murtagh. I," she looked into his eyes, "I love you."

"It's to dangerous for you to be with me."

"Have I not been through enough danger on my own to prove that I can take care of myself?"

He turned his head, "If you stay with me, you'll be imprisoned, like me."

"If they were to throw you into the pits of Hell, I'd follow you," she said stubbornly.

"I don't want you to get hurt--"

"You're afraid they'll compare you with your father!"

"I'm already like my father!" She grew quiet, Murtagh panting angrily, "Don't you understand; I don't want you to be hurt! I'm horrified that I'll go mad like my father, and by my hand cause you the same misery and pain that my own mother went through! Everyone I've ever loved has died before my eyes; I will not watch you die!"

Elaina was staring into her lap for the longest time. The sun shone in her hair, and she raised her head, smiling sweetly, "Then I will close you're eyes before I go."

He didn't know how to react to that response; for a long time he just stared at her in shock. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, he erupted in laughter. He laughed for so long and so hard that his stomach hurt afterward and tears were in his eyes. He was relieved to find that Elaina had done the same. As she replenished her air supply, Murtagh leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. She looked up, blushing, "Thank you, Elaina."

She grabbed his hand, holding it tightly, "I love you, Murtagh."

He helped her up, sighing with a grin on his face, "And I you, damn it." They laughed as they walked, hand-in-hand, below deck, only to meet a fuming Katrina and her shouts of laziness and forgetting to help.

**Shoreline, Alagesian Boarder**

Murtagh felt as light as air. The smile on his face had yet to diminish, even though he was grown closer and closer to his imprisonment. He watched the mountains that loomed before him, smiling at them tauntingly. He was in love now, and he dared those mountains to try and harm he and his friends. Murtagh could hear the ships crew helping Eragon and their small party get their supplies together, while Jeod could be heard complaining that there wasn't enough men. A low, mellow voice crossed his ears, and Murtagh sighed as he saw Eragon trying to reassure the old man. He laughed once, then walked back to the beach.

Eragon was laughing nervously as Jeod continued, "This is suicide! You can't expect me to believe that you, three men and three women can cross the Spine, alone."

"Arya's an elf," he said, scratching the back of his head.

"I'll give you that, but what about poor Katrina? She's pregnant for goodness' sake!" He turned, about to storm off but saw that Murtagh was behind him, "Oh, hello my boy."

"You don't have to worry, old man," Murtagh smiled wider, "yes, we have four men coming along, but three out of that four have dragons, and the last one is a very skilled fighter. The women will be fine; nothing will get to them between Roran, Eragon, and I, plus the dragons." He motioned to the three dragons that sat along the shoreline, playing in the ebb and flow of the ocean waters, "And if Katrina needs to rest, then I'll let her ride Thorn, since Garrow is still to small."

Eragon smiled; he knew they'd one. Something had happened to his brother, for he saw that old spark in his eye that had lived in him when they raced to the Varden, so long ago. He looked to Jeod, "Well? Satisfied?"

The old man looked as though the actual though was really bouncing around behind his eyes. Sighing with frustration, Jeod threw his hands in the air and laughed, "Fine! You two win," he was walking away, halfway to the tiny scouting boats, when he yelled, "I swear, you two are just like your mother!"

As he walked away, Murtagh cursed, "I hope no one else heard that."

"Agreed," Eragon didn't mind Jeod or Nasuada knowing; they had a right to know, but if the entire crew found out that he and Murtagh were brothers, then the Varden would fall threat of becoming discouraged and untrusting, even more than they already were. He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "So, are you ready for more mountain climbing?"

He shook his head, a small chuckle escaping him, "At least there are no Urgals."

"With our luck," Eragon began to walk towards Arya, who was trying to find her bags, "there will be an entire army of them waiting for us." He heard Murtagh laugh, but he didn't laugh at his joke; there luck really was horrible.


	27. Trouble in Therinsford

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Trouble in Therinsford**

**Reviewers: Sorry it took more than three to four days; I've been busy. I think to much happens in the chapter, so I'm not to fond of it. Well, It's long, so I'm proud of that, lol. Well, I hope you guys enjoy it, and thank you for all your reviews!  
**

**Blahdy blahy: I GOTS A REVIEW FROM ONE OF MY FAVORITE PEOPLES! YAYNESS AND NANORS GALOR! XD**

Murtagh awoke to a brisk morning atop a mountain he'd never seen before. Oh sure, he'd heard of it, but the tales that were born from the Spine were none that any man would ever want to hear. He looked around and saw that it would be quiet easy for an army of men to get lost in this mysterious mountain. The woods were dense, almost to the point where you could barely see sunlight; many a time Thorn or Saphira had needed to take flight to make room for them. Another chilling factor was the mist that seemed to never lift, blanketing what little light they had in a gray fog. The terrain was rocky, and it was easy to trip over an exposed root or small hole where a rock would've lain. Tracks from animals such as wolves and bears were everywhere, and in the night there was utter darkness.

The world was quiet; the only sound was that of his party sleeping. Thorn lay next to him, grumbling and growling as he chased something in his sleep, as Saphira rested next to Eragon, one of her wings extended over his body. He smiled; she'd always been his living tent. Arya and Lian were resting underneath a tall oak, sharing a small blanket that Elaina and Katrina had provided. The married couple were the nearest to the fire pit, Garrow resting protectively on Katrina's side. Her stomach was beginning to show signs of her pregnancy, and Murtagh only prayed that they could get her to the elves without incident. Lastly, he looked for Elaina, but she was nowhere to be found. Cursing, he stood and tiptoed quietly to where the girl had slept, finding small traces of fresh footprints. He smiled, and then quickly dashed out of the campsite, following the dirt trail.

The forest was heating up now, if only slightly, and Murtagh feared that the others would awake without he or Elaina present. _And I'll be the one yelled at,_ he grumbled, avoiding a low branch. He could faintly make out the sounds of a small creek not far from him, and the trees opened up, if only slightly, to make way for the tiny stream. The tracks lead straight towards it. Shaking his head, Murtagh quickened his pace, making sure not to trip on the underbrush.

Tiny white birds flew from the trees as Murtagh invaded their home. He shielded his eyes; the sun reflected brightly on the water. Squinting, he looked around for the young woman, but couldn't see past the glare and the mist. His footsteps crunched on the crumbled up marble and pebbles that littered the tiny creek's shore and the wind blew gently through the trees. Then he stopped; another noise graced his ears. It was that same voice from the ship, only this time it was a much sadder, slower tune. Shielding his eyes, Murtagh looked around in a complete circle, stopping at a stump where a tree had fallen. There sat Elaina, her back to him, rocking back and forth. All other sound was absorbed into her song, making the world her chorus. The melody traveled as gently as the breeze as the girl sang one note to the other. Murtagh drew closer, resting on a small boulder covered with bright green moss, waiting for her to finish.

It took her five minutes to complete her song. She sighed, looking down at her hands, oblivious to Murtagh's presence. A small bird chirped in an overhead branch, and Elaina looked up, smiling. The sun cast warm streaks of light upon her face, making her blend in with the forest's floor. After a moment of searching for the small creature, Elaina stood, shrieking as she turned and saw Murtagh. He laughed as her face turned red, "Don't sneak up on me like that!" She screamed.

Murtagh grinned, "Well, maybe you shouldn't make it so easy." She glared at him, "Sorry."

She shrugged, smiling sheepishly, "Well, I guess we should head back. . . Whoa!" Tripping over a root covered with fallen leaves, Elaina lost her footing and was quickly heading towards the ground, or so she thought. She blushed as she felt Murtagh's arms around her own, "S-sorry."

"Be more careful, okay?" He helped her to find her footing, "Come on; I'm sure the others are awake and worried by now."

"Okay!" She said, smiling. Elaina took one step, but took no more. Pain erupted through her ankle, and she fell again, this time without Murtagh to catch her. Sitting on the ground, she gently touched her swollen ankle, "Ow. . ."

Murtagh, noticing that he was the only one making noise, turned around and gasped, "Elaina!" He knelt beside her, "Let me see it." She moved her hand away; Murtagh traced it gingerly with his finger. She hissed, "It's twisted, maybe even broken," he turned his back to her, extending both hands behind him, "get on."

"Oh no, I couldn't--!"

"You can't walk, you're out in the forest, and I'm not leaving you here until I get Thorn. Now come on," he smiled, "just pretend your five."

Elaina rolled her eyes, "This is embarrassing." She wrapped her arms around his neck, wincing as he picked her legs up and hoisted her onto his back. She had to pull her skirt up to her knees to sit comfortably, her legs dangling to the ground. She rested her head on his back, "I'm hopeless."

"No, you're not--" a small chuckle escaped him, "okay, maybe just a little."

"Murtagh," she growled.

"Sorry."

It was noon by the time they'd reached camp. Thorn had already informed the others of what had happened, so they didn't get yelled at to much. Elaina had apologized on Murtagh's behalf, but Eragon was still furious. He stormed around the campsite, "What if there had been enemies?"

"You don't think I can handle myself?" Murtagh leaned against Thorn, a cocky smirk on his face.

It only infuriated Eragon further, "You could've put Elaina in danger!"

"Um," Elaina raised her hand sheepishly, "I sort of did that on my own. If Murtagh hadn't come to find me," she looked at her ankle, which was now wrapped in a homemade cast by Katrina, "I'd probably be stuck."

Arya frowned, "You really shouldn't go out on your own, prince--" She stopped mid-sentence, noting all the shocked faces on her companion's faces. Murtagh hid his face in his hand. She glared, "What?''

"Princess?" Eragon moved closer to her, disbelief in his eyes, "You're a princess?!"

Roran frowned, "That's not some nickname, is it?"

"Yes!" She, Murtagh, Lian, and Arya shouted at the same time. They all looked very guilty of something that could get them in trouble, like a child that had just stolen a cookie.

Eragon searched them over, then looked to Thorn, "Do you know anything about this?"

_Why are you asking me?!_

Saphira inched closer, a mischievous glare in her eye, _Thorn, please tell the truth._

_Ah. . .um. . ._ He looked down at Murtagh, who was still hiding his face, _help!_

_What am I supposed to do?!_

_I don't know; something!_

Murtagh sighed, removing his hand. He looked Eragon in the eye, "Elaina is the last of the Angrenost house; the royal human family before Galbatorix wiped them out." No one said a word for the longest time, "What?! You asked!"

"I didn't think it would be real!" He looked at Elaina, a very confused look upon his face, "Is it true?"

She shrugged, "I guess. I don't really remember my family, well, my real family. The only thing I have from them is my tattoo on my back."

"She could also read the ancient text that was in Vrael's book," Arya broke in, "it was a code between the elves and the humans to keep the peace. It was established before my father was chosen as king, so I couldn't read it."

Roran looked to his younger cousin, "So what does this mean?"

"I don't know," he sighed, crossing his arms, "does anyone else know?"

Elaina shook her head, "Only you and everyone else here now." She thought about it, a finger placed on her lip, "Oh! And that child, um, Solembum. He knows."

"Then that's plenty," he kicked the ground in frustration; a rock flew over Thorn's head, "anything else I need to know about?" Everyone was silent, "Good, then help me pack up camp; we've lost enough time as it is."

They climbed well into the night, Murtagh and Eragon leading the way, using their dragon's eye-sight to lead them in the right direction. Through the dragon's eyes, they saw the world in nothing but blue and black, and in Murtagh's chase, red and black. Every bug, animal, and plant was known to them as the Riders and Arya tried to sense their surroundings. All around them were the tiny sparks of life, ranging from little ants to deer and other, more dangerous animals. Katrina and Elaina were trying to keep up with Lian, who was having some trouble himself, but would never admit it. Twice Garrow had to crane his neck back to catch the pregnant woman, Elaina trying her hardest to hobble on the twisted ankle.

They were all exhausted, the moon well into the sky, when Roran broke the silence, "Let's rest here. We're all tired, and I don't want Katrina getting sick."

Eragon nodded, "Alright. I'm sure Elaina'll be happy to get off that leg."

"I'm if--," she winced, "ouch." Murtagh rolled his eyes and helped her unpack a few blankets. Eragon started a small fire as Roran and Lian went out hunting. Arya and Katrina looked around for spare branches and fallen leaves to keep the fire going without using too much magic, and the dragons went off to hunt on their own.

The night was peaceful, the song of the evening in full chorus. An owl hooted in the distance as frogs and crickets chirped along, creating a soothing melody. The glow from the fire gave them all a warm, secure feeling, as they all sat around its welcoming flames. The dragons had returned, Garrow extremely proud of him for catching his first doe. He seemed to glow as he received congratulations from the party, but soon drifted off to sleep before Roran and Lian returned. In Roran's hands were two unfortunate squirrels, Lian carrying a rabbit. Eragon and Arya unpacked what fruit and vegetables they had brought, and soon the camp fell silent as they all ate.

Elaina, leaning against Murtagh for extra warmth, looked up and asked, "So, how much longer until we get there?"

"I'm not really sure." He tossed a pebble at Eragon, who was drifting off, "How much longer?"

Rubbing his forehead, he snapped, "I'm not sure, but we need to stop in a town sooner or later." Eragon reached for his bag, emptying what was left of its contents, "We're almost out of supplies."

Roran grunted, "Therinsford isn't far from here. We should be able to see it by tomorrow, at noon in the latest."

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that will be?" Murtagh motioned to the entire camp, "Not one among us isn't wanted by the Empire. How do you think we'll sneak by unnoticed?"

This seemed to snap Lian out of his trance, "I could go. My face has yet to be seen by anyone of importance, and I haven't really done anything worth arrest."

"Galbatorix saw you in my mind," he said, shaking his head.

"Yes, but only as a very small role."

"There's too much to carry for just one person."

"I could go with him." Elaina leaned up, folding her legs up underneath her chin, "I'm pretty good at blending in, and with Lian I could say we were married or something."

"No!" Elaina looked up at him; he blushed, "It's too dangerous. And besides, I could blend in with a crowd myself, but that makes no difference. If Galbatorix wants to find you," his face grew dark, "he'll find you."

Katrina rested a hand on Roran's, "I'll go then."

A worried frown crossed his face, "Are you sure?"

She winked at him, "You married a girl from Carvahall, remember? And besides, I'm sure that someone will help a poor couple with a baby on the way."

"You mustn't use your real names," Arya cautioned, "with the town so close to where Carvahall once stood, there are bound to be those who know you."

"I don't like this," Eragon stated, leaning back against a tree.

Saphira nudged him with her noise, _Little one, if you never take chances then how will you ever progress?_

_Whatever,_ Thorn grumbled, almost knocking Murtagh over with his wing, _can you all be quieter? I'm trying to sleep._

_You lazy--_Murtagh nudged him back, laughing.

Lian clapped his hands together, echoing through the night, "So, it's settled. Tomorrow, Katrina and I will venture into Therinsford, retrieve supplies, and return to base." His smile vanished as Murtagh stared at him flatly, "What?"

"Go to bed, before I punch you in the mouth." Elaina hit him in the arm; he only smiled and rolled to his side.

**Therinsford**

He could tell Katrina was nervous; anyone walking into an enemy stronghold would be. From atop a small hill they'd discovered that the tiny town had been overtaken by Imperial Soldiers, what was worse was the Lethrblaka not a mile away from the town. Everyone insisted that she stay behind, but Katrina had stared at them stubbornly, reminding them all that the Ra'zac knew all of their scents.

Lian frowned as they approached the front gate to the newly barricaded walls of Therinsford. Posted outside of the town were two soldiers, guiding and watching the traffic that entered and left the town. More people were leaving than entering, and Lian could see why. Half of the old straw roofed buildings had been burned down, and the gigantic windmill that stood at its center had been stopped; the wings of its propeller were removed. Around the town was a gigantic fence of wooden pikes, several heads of deceased villagers posted at their tips. It made him want to vomit.

They grew closer to the check point, the smell of decaying flesh surrounding them. The guard standing at the opening was a gruff looking soldier who had many battle scars underneath his shaggy bearded. As they began to walk through, he stopped them, glaring, "I need to check you for weapons."

"Come now," Lian sighed, "I have a pregnant wife, and you're telling me I am to take her, unprotected, into a town I hardly even know?" He glared back, "That's ridiculous."

"Don't cause any trouble, and you won't need them," snapped the soldier, pointing to Lian's twin daggers. He looked to Katrina, his face softening slightly, "I don't suppose you have anything, and do you miss?"

She shook her head, not looking him in the eye, "No sir, just my husband here. The only thing I carry is our little one." She patted her stomach lovingly.

"I'm sorry, but this is my job," he reached out a hand, "your weapons, sir." Rolling his eyes, Lian lazily handed him the blades, then marched into the newly barricaded town.

"You know what we need?" Lian whispered, fingering a small linen rug that hung from a pole.

Katrina nodded, "I'll go off alone for now, it'll be less conspicuous." She saw the doubt in Lian's eyes, "Have you ever heard of a husband going shopping with his wife?"

He smiled, "Be careful; Roran'll kill me otherwise." She laughed, and Lian watched her walk away, blending into the crowd. Now came the hard part; getting the information on their enemy. He knew none of the soldiers on duty would have loose enough tongues for his journey, but the local pub looked like just the place to find information. Already three windows were broken from flying drunken men, soldier and civilian alike. A small smirk crossed his face; Elaina would love this. He began to walk into the sour smelling building, wary of the drunken men fighting or just wobbling about.

It was hard to see through the smoke and hazy air. The smell was gut retching; they served something stronger than just normal booze here. Every table seemed to get wilder and wilder the further back, each one with its own unique character. One had a man with a missing left eye and arm, while there was another man with skin and hair as white as snow, his eyes a deep crimson. There was another man that caught his attention. He was a seasoned looking man, with salt-and-pepper hair and small prickles of hair traced his face. Lian could feel his eyes follow him to the counter, and feeling of foreboding sticking to his mind.

The barkeep broke his train of thought, "Can I get ye anything, lady?"

"Information," Lian said quietly. He leaned in further, "How long have these soldiers been occupying this town?"

The man looked up, cleaning a mug that was in his gigantic hands, "I dunno; since that whole 'Carvahall" thing, I 'spose. Really couldn't tell ye, lady." He leaned closer, a gloomy expression on his face, "Aye, but them monsters in black cloaks have just recently arrived. A dark shadow, those creatures."

"Do you know why?"

"Says their lookin' for a deserter," he sighed, "some highborn coward afraid o' fightin', by my reckognin'." A devilish smile cracked his chubby face, "Worth a pretty penny, that one. Rumor 'round here's that he be more than a soldier. All those against the Empire thinks he be joinin' up with that Eragon fella."

"Hm," Lian rested his head on his hands, "do you know if they'll be departing soon?"

"You ask quiet a few questions there, young man." A gruff voice from behind him said. Lian turned to find the man with salt-and-pepper hair looming over him. He pointed to the table that he'd once occupied, "Come."

"No, I really shouldn't," he said nervously, "I need to be getting back to my wife."

"She can wait a few more minutes," he said, grabbing him by the collar, "this won't take long." The man forcibly drug Lian to the table, slamming him into an empty chair. They sat in the corner, farthest away from everyone else, "You know something about that boy, Murtagh, am I correct?"

Lian fought hard to hide his surprise, "Who is that?"

He slammed a fist down on the table, "Don't toy with me, boy! Believe it or not, I know who you are, along with all your other traveling companions. My main concern is the boy. Where is he?"

"Why should I tell you--?"

The doors slammed open, followed by a long and ear splitting shriek. Into the room entered a lone Ra'zac, his body covered in a black cloak. The man cursed, "Come, quickly!" Lian followed him, running around the bar to a back door in the mist of the chaos. The streets were no better. Frantic people of all ages were running like mad to escape the soldiers and the monster that stood among them.

Lian cursed, "I can't leave; not without Katrina!"

"Is that her?" The man pointed. Another curse flew from his mouth, and Lian charged forward. There stood a drunken soldier, his sword ready to hack into the helpless girl. She was backed against a corner, unable to move even if she'd wanted to. The man swung his blade, a sick smile glowing in the lantern light.

It came crashing down into Lian's shoulder, hacking all the way to his hip. He screamed, dots dancing in front of his eyes. He heard a scream, and felt a warm hand catch him as he fell back. Before his eyes faded away, he saw the mysterious man decapitate the soldier with a hidden knife. . .

**Campsite, outside Therinsford**

Murtagh frowned, holding Elaina in his arms as the girl cried hysterically. Katrina just stood and stared at him in shock, blood still splattered across her face; Roran held her hand tightly. Eragon, wiping the sweat from his forehead, sighed, "It's up to him now; I can do no more." He looked to Arya, who had said not a word upon her brother's return. Leaving the group, he went to sit beside her, "Arya. . ."

"Why did I let him come?" She looked to her hands, her eyes clouded, "I should've made him stay with the Varden. My family would've never accepted him anyway. And I. . ." Her voice cracked, "I . . ." Eragon rested his chin atop her head as she wept into his arms. It hurt him to see her like this, for he knew she wouldn't let him close enough to her heart to heal it.

He stroked her raven hair, "It wasn't your fault, Arya. It was Lian's decision to come and help us." He smiled, "And there's still hope! The wound was closed quickly, the only thing now is that his body recover enough blood--"

"Between our traveling, along with the haste to get away from the Ra'zac? No," she wept, "my brother was dead before he even reached us." He was about to say something when she held up her hand, "You are kind, Eragon, but nothing you say will comfort me now. Just," she stared off into the distance, "let me be."

"As you wish," he said, squeezing her hand before leaving, "you're not alone, you know. If you don't want to talk to me, Saphira will be happy to listen." She nodded and said no more.

As he walked by, Murtagh grabbed his wrist, causing him to jump, "What is it--?"

"Don't play coy with me," he snarled, "I know you can heal him; you've been hiding something from me, I know, but if you do not do this, he will die!"

His face was a mix of emotions, "I," he sighed, hanging his head, "alright." He went to lean by Lian, his hand outstretched, _Saphira?_

_Yes, Eragon?_

_I might pass out after this, so can you tell Arya I said I was sorry?_

_Of course._

He smiled, _Thank you._ Tapping into the new resource of power, Eragon began to glow a bright white, his hand surging with magical energy. The group watched in awe as this tiny boy began to heal the still bruised skin where the sword had laid its deadly bite. Lian tossed and turned, compulsing with each new wave that hit his body. Soon it was over, and Eragon fell to his side.

He saw Lian open his eyes and smiled. The last thing he heard was Murtagh and Roran rushing towards him, Elaina, Katrina, and Arya gleefully laughing at Lian's side.

**Behind the camp**

The salt-and-pepper man stood smiling, staring down at the site. He'd finally found his prey, and he was out in the open with an unconscious elf, a wounded man, and three women. He could wait for the dragons to fall asleep, sneak into the camp, and capture the boy before anyone knew what happened. He rubbed his half-grown beard, "Gotcha." An arrogant smirk shown pearl white teeth, "No one gets away from Salavand."


	28. Good and Evil

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Twenty-eight: Good and Evil**

**Reviewers: OMG FINALLY! I'VE UPDATED! lol, but seriously; I hate this chapter. It's not that it's a bad chapter, it jsut took me sooooooo long to write it! I hate it when I get sick or my brain just sort of dies, lol. Anyway, hopefully you guys will still read my story, even though I am horrible at updating, and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon. Please read and review!**

**Blah: It was they day where everyone wanted you to sign their yearbooks today. At the end of all my responses, I put "May Your Swords Stay Sharp!". . . does that make me a nerd?**

They waited no longer then an hour to depart once more, eager to evade any scouts, or Ra'zac that might be on the hunt for them. Arya had protested, for the first time pleading with them to wait just a little longer for her brother's sake. Lian only shook his head, stretched his previously wounded arm, and smiled, "I feel like a hundred crowns! You needn't worry so much, sister." She only frowned and silently went to help pack up camp.

The weather had turned horrid. It was cold, dreary, and very likely to rain. The wind chilled them to their bones, its howling through the trees causing them to be restless and anxious. It seemed as though the entire world had grown gray. The dragons' eyelids drooped like that of a bored house-cat on a rainy day, about to drift off to sleep. Twice Roran had to pat Garrow on the head, just to keep the young dragon from falling asleep. Saphira had yawned once, followed closely by Elaina, who then punched Murtagh in the arm for laughing at her.

The air was very tense between the two brothers. Murtagh stormed forward, refusing to look Eragon in the eye. The younger of the two had tried to open conversation, but at every attempt Murtagh would go in another direction or find something that needed 'inspecting'. It was well into the night, everyone ready to make camp, when the older Rider even allowed his dragon to talk to him. Aggravated, Thorn snapped, _What's your problem? I didn't do anything._

_I know,_ he said, sorry_. It's just,_ Murtagh ran his fingers through his hair, breathing out through his teeth, _he still doesn't trust us._

_Well,_ Thorn nudged him playfully, _would you?_

He picked up a small twig that seemed dry enough for a fire, _Of course!_ A doubtful smile played across his lips, _Who wouldn't trust a couple of honest faces like ours?_ Thorn blew smoke in his face, causing Murtagh to cough. Waving away what was left, he laughed and continued picking up twigs, allowing himself to cool down. Of course he knew Eragon didn't trust him, not anymore at least. _I did try to capture him . . . twice._ He sighed, quickly catching himself as he stumbled over a rock.

At the campsite, everyone save Roran and Arya were stumbling around in the dark, trying to set things up. Lian grumbled as he lay down a blanket,"I could've helped him hunt, you know."

Elaina laughed, "Oh yes, you could've helped. But then he'd be carrying back two dead things instead of one."

"I'm fine--!" Saphira caught him by her nose before he could fall, "Okay, so I'm still a little dizzy," he looked to his feet, "don't tell Arya, please?"

"What do you think, Elaina?" Katrina smirked as she waved the dirt off her blanket.

She eyed him dangerously, "It depends; how much is it worth to you?" He moaned, and the camp erupted in laughter, even Saphira joined in.

With a handful of twigs and leaves, Murtagh and Eragon began to walk back to camp, Thorn close behind. The entire time Eragon held his head to the ground, until Murtagh groaned and stopped walking, "Why do you care so much if I'm angry at you? You didn't seem to care so much when we were racing to the Varden."

He smirked, "It's different now," Eragon pointed towards Thorn, "back then, you couldn't tell Tornac to eat me."

"Hm," he laughed, "still, I guess I should've known you wouldn't trust me. And it was probably a good idea to hide whatever that was, but," he frowned, looking Eragon in the eye, "if someone is about to die, there should be no secrets. Agreed?"

Eragon nodded, smiling, "Agreed."

As they were about to enter camp, Murtagh cocked his head, "What ever happened to Tornac, anyway?"

"We had to put him down--"

"What?!"

"I'm kidding," Eragon laughed, trying to avoid Murtagh's fist; the twigs and leaves were everywhere, "I was just kidding. Nasuada made sure he was put in the finest stables. He's probably a very happy horse."

"Good," bending down, he snapped, "now help me pick this up."

A fire had been started well before Roran and Arya returned. A peevish look on Roran's face told everyone that the trip had been less than pleasant, Arya looking likewise. Apparently they'd gotten into an argument of why you should and shouldn't eat meat, and their findings were less than sufficient. Eragon only rolled his eyes as he bit into one of the turnips that Arya had found, while Murtagh helped Roran pluck the feathers from the small quail he'd managed to kill. Looking up from her food, Arya glared at Murtagh as he tossed freshly plucked feathers at a sleeping Lian, "Why do you still eat meat? There's no honor in killing something so frail."

"Ah, that's why you set limits." She raised an eyebrow, "You don't need magic for everything. You take all the challenge out of life if you always take the easy route."

The same bunch of feathers flew onto his head, sticking into his hair, "Well said." Lian snapped, falling back on his make-shift pillow.

"Well, I'm not going to stop eating meat," Elaina started heating water for the stew, "I for one am a firm believer in the food chain."

_If you believe that, then you'd have no problem in my eating you?_ Thorn said playfully.

Elaina smiled, "Not if you don't mind me eating you first."

As they laughed, Arya rolled her eyes, smiling, "Barbarians."

Hours passed, and soon everyone was asleep, save for one. Elaina, her eyes staring up into the starry night sky, couldn't shake the horrible feeling she had in her stomach. It felt like someone was watching them, coming closer and closer with each moment. An owl hooted in the distance, the howling of far off wolves floated in the night air, and a frog chirped. Then a twig snapped.

Elaina shot up, "Who's there?" She whispered, her head darting around in complete darkness. _This is ridiculous_, she told herself, lying back down. She placed an aggravated hand on her forehead, rubbing her temples with her thumb and index finger. Another snap, and this time she shook Murtagh.

He opened his eyes slowly, "Hm?" A dazed look crossed his eyes, "Elaina, wha. . ." Then he heard it too, this time much closer. Murtagh held a finger to his lips, sitting up. He slowly reached for the dagger that was tucked away in his boot, "Go as quietly as you can to Thorn's saddle. Zar'roc should be there." Elaina nodded, staying as low to the ground and as quietly as she could as she headed towards the sleeping beast.

She returned, a fearless look in her eye, "What can I do?"

"Be quiet."

"Hey!"

"Sh!" He listened intently for what seemed like hours, nothing but the sounds of the forest crossing his ears. Frowning, Murtagh stood, "I'm going to take a look around; make sure it's not a bear or something."

"I'm coming with you." She said stubbornly, tossing her hair back.

He gave her a taunting grin, "Sure you're not scared?"

"Why would I be?" There was another snap; she jumped, "Shut up." He laughed quietly as he drew Zar'roc, walking into the forest with Elaina holding his free hand.

If it wasn't for the full moon, they would have been in complete darkness. The forest floor was littered with tiny strings of wild clovers, making it easy to trip. Brambles and little bushes were scattered about underneath the ancient pine trees, and it was slippery where small patches of moss grew. Elaina had to fight the urge to close her eyes, gripping Murtagh's hand tighter and tighter. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd been afraid of the dark, but soon grew out of it around towns or inside buildings. It was out in the open that she didn't like the dark. Xavier had told her too many ghost stories for her not to be afraid.

"Hey," Murtagh looked down, smiling slightly, "you're going to break my hand."

"S-sorry," she laughed nervously, loosening her grip; she never really let go.

A few more minutes passes, and nothing but repeated plant life and darkness was revealed. With an agitated sigh, Murtagh turned, "There's nothing here--!" The sound of steel scraping against leather sounded, and with a quick flash Zar'roc was before the throat of the would-be attacker. It happened so quickly, Elaina hadn't even noticed. She shrieked as an alien hand grabbed her around her waist, jetting her off into the moonlight. Murtagh cursed, running after them into what he knew was an ambush.

_Thorn!_ He shouted, cutting through some bothersome underbrush, _Thorn, you lazy beast, wake up!_

It took a few more moments, then frantically Thorn replied, _What is it? Where are you?_

_Wake Eragon and the others, _he cursed as a branch cut his right cheek, _Elaina's been taken!_

_What were you doing--?_

_Just do it!_ Murtagh's breath was haggard now; tired from both traveling and now running through a god-forsaken forest. Just ahead he noticed two silhouettes, both standing, or rather struggling, in the moonlight. The one he knew was Elaina, her small form fighting with all her might to escape her capture. The other was a broad shadow that loomed across the land, a haggard looking straw hat upon his head. The hat was what gave him away. Murtagh slowed, feeling his heart go into his throat. As he stopped, he could hear the man's amused laughter, "Salavand. . ."

"Murtagh!" He barked, grinning down at him with a condescending air, "My, my, haven't you grown. Handsome too; look just like your dear old dad."

"Let her go," he snarled, gripping Zar'roc's hilt.

This man was a terror, a threat to anything that breathed. He was known for assassinations, a genius in battle, a double crosser, a spy, and a ruthless killer who's only concern was at the end of the day a cold, gold piece lay in the palm of his bloodstained hand. Salavand laughed harshly, "Now, if I were to let her go, I couldn't get you to come with me now, could I?" He jerked Elaina's head back by her hair, "She's a pretty little thing. I'd be in a spot too if I had to choose--"

"Damn you, Salavand!" Murtagh began to reach for magic, flashing his gedwey ignasia, "Let her go!"

Elaina cried as Salavand pushed her body in front of his own, making her a living shield, "Now, now, boy. Let's not get hasty; no one has to be hurt here."

"Why are you here?" He barked, "For more money? What more can the king offer you?"

"Why, my gracious lord has offered me a spot of nobility, quite a generous offer, don't you think?" He looked at him dully, "You're rather stupid, you know. You could have anything in the world, yet you throw it away because you think it's 'heroic'? What a jest." Murtagh stepped forward, his hand resting tightly on Zar'roc's hilt. "Not a smart move," he drew his own weapon, placing it harshly under Elaina's neck, "drop your blade, or mine will go through her." A pinprick of red blood drew a line on the edge of the knife.

Elaina looked Murtagh in the eye, and he looked back. He had to hide his expression as she winked at him, _What in the world--?_ Just then, Elaina spit in Salavand's eye, causing the old man to howl and release her. She bolted, making sure to get out of the way as Murtagh blasted him with magic. Before the smoke cleared, he beckoned Elaina back to his side, "Stay behind me."

She nodded, "Okay," she tugged on his shirt, "um. . . s-sorry about that."

"We'll talk later," he said, approaching the stunned man. He was sprawled on his back, laughing wildly. Murtagh placed Zar'roc back against his throat.

"Ah, so what's this?" Salavand whistled, "Am I to have the honor of dying at the hands of a Rider? My my--!" He was cut short, as Zar'roc had slammed against his tempt with teeth shattering force.

"I won't kill you," Murtagh snapped, sheathing his blade, "you're not worth it." After kicking the man once to see if he really was unconscious, he turned to Elaina. She looked up and smiled at him, "Are you alright?" She nodded, "Good, then do you mind never spitting on someone again?"

"Why? It worked, didn't it?" She glared, her cheeks turning red, "I mean, yes, it is disgusting, but--"

Wearing a cocky grin, Murtagh pointed a finger up above where Salavand had previously stood, "That's why." In the sky, hovering barely over the trees, flew Eragon and Saphira, his bow in hand.

Eragon waved, shouting, "Are you two alright?" They shouted back in response, "Good! Nice shot, by the way, Elaina!"

This time she wore the arrogant smile, watching as the two devised a spell that would hold Salavand in place; they had no rope.

**Campsite**

They returned a few minutes later, finding that the campsite had burst into life again. Lian and Roran sat on opposite sides of the area, both weapons in hand, with Garrow hovering above head. Katrina was sitting in Thorn's saddle, Arya not far from the beast, and a small fire had been lit in order to help Eragon and Saphira find their way back. When they emerged from the woods, Murtagh threw Salavand's limp body into the clearing, his face expressionless. Elaina had to stop Eragon before he tripped over the body; he was healing her neck.

Lian, sheathing his daggers, rushed over to the two, "Are you alright? What happened to your neck?"

"I'm fine, but," she looked at Murtagh, who hadn't said a word since they began walking, "who is that?"

"It's a very long story," he sighed, poking at the fire with a small twig. He watched nervously as Katrina slid from Thorn's saddle awkwardly, "And it is late."

"We have an unconscious enemy right in front of us that is clearly a threat, and yet you don't want to tell us because you think we're tired?" Eragon scoffed.

Rolling his eyes, Murtagh grumbled, "Fine, but don't blame me if you have nightmares from this," he looked to the others, "you may want to sit down for this." The others complied, Katrina choosing to sit next to Roran, Garrow allowing her to rest her head on his stomach. Saphira and Thorn took places as the watchmen, and Lian, Eragon, and Arya all sat in a small semi-circle around the fire. Elaina leaned against a rock nearby, her eyes drooping slightly.

As the fire cracked and burned, Murtagh began his tale. He looked to Eragon, "Do you remember the story I told you about why I left Uru'baen? About my orders to destroy Cantos?" Eragon nodded, "Well, he's the man that took my place. It wasn't an extraction of traitors; it was murder. He allowed the men to run wild amongst the streets, killing the young and old, pillaging, burning, raping," he scowled, "they were no better than common thieves or bandits. In the report, it is written that he himself lined up five women, all the wives of traitors, and forced the men to come out. Even after they confessed, under the false belief that their families would be returned safely, Salavand killed them. But no, not by his own hand," he paused, rubbing a tired hand over his face, "he forced their husbands to stab them in the heart, and as each did, Salavand would cut their heads off."

"Monster. . .!" Eragon stared at the man, appalled and outraged, "Why do you let him live?"

"We need information," Murtagh sighed, "there's more, if you want to hear it." He received shaky nods from everyone; he saw tears of utter hatred welling in Elaina's eyes, "Remember how I said that Galbatorix told me to 'bury their ashes in dung'? Well, due to lack of such things, Salavand forced any survivor to eat the ashes of their fallen friends and families. . ."

"Bastard!" Lian grabbed Elaina's waist before she could reach the unconscious man, tears streaming down her face, "How can such a cruel beast exist? How?!"

_There is always a shadow that follows the light, _Garrow said, intense violet eyes studying Salavand. He growled, the sound echoing through the night, _To have kind people, there will always be cruel people, or else there would be nothing to compare 'good' and 'bad' with. Without one, there can be no other._

Everyone was silent for the longest time until Roran yawned, "Well, I think that's enough story telling for one night. Let's get some sleep."

"Grand idea," Lian began to crawl back to his tiny spot, rolling up inside his blankets, "Good night!" He received a very tired response from everyone else.

As Murtagh was returning to his own make-shift bed, Eragon grabbed him by the arm, a sad gleam in his eye, "How do you know such people?"

He only smiled, "We were born in different worlds, Eragon.

He watched his brother lay down, making sure that Elaina wouldn't try to attack their hostage again. He turned his back and sighed, "Very different."


	29. News from a Murderer's Mouth

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: News from a Murderer's Mouth**

**Reviewers: HURRAY REVIEWERS! Lol, you guys really do make my day; I just hope I can continue to give you good chapters to review on. I'm sorry if this story is getting a little drawn out (it is a long story) but we'll be getting to the good parts soon. I can't wait to start writing about Thorn in Ellesmera :). Anyway, please read and review, but most of all enjoy!**

Blah: I think I'm a little depressed, or bored, so I haven't felt like writing much. I keep thinking that I'm doing a bad job, and then scraping everything that I put down. I blame it all on my poor English grade; cursed 11th grade English!

Dawn broke all too early for the tiny group. They moved groggily about on clumsy feet as they tried to find water and a source of breakfast. The sun was hidden behind mist and clouds, and the world was cold. Already the trees were beginning to shift into their autumn colors, tiny blotches of reds and yellow visible in the vast canopies of the mountain's forest. Several flocks of birds flew above their heads, heading south to warmer climates and friendlier weather. The ground grew harder, and the gloom of upcoming winter loomed over their heads.

As the day progressed, their captive had yet to awaken. Murtagh sat on a stone nearest to him, sharpening Zar'roc with a whetstone as the others went about their own business. They had decided today would be a day of leisure; everyone was exhausted from the past two days events. Eragon had affirmed they were very close to Carvahall now, for he'd found a hot spring that he used to frequent when he hunted and grew tired in the Spine. Of course, no one believed him of this, until he dragged Murtagh and Arya to the exact spot where it was located. He smiled with the expression of "I told you so" all over his face. The thought made Murtagh laugh, but with a slip of his finger lost the whetstone and cut himself. He cursed, sticking the cut finger into his mouth.

"Are you all right?" Murtagh shot an annoyed glance at Roran, "You know, you can use magic."

"I know," he snapped, "It's habit."

He pointed behind his back to where Lian and Eragon stood, "We're going hunting since the girls are going to the hot spring; care to join us?" He smiled warmly, "You of all people could use a break."

He shook his head, "Sorry, but I want to be here when he wakes up. I don't want to leave with only a dragon guarding him."

"Suit yourself," Roran shrugged, rejoining Eragon and Lian as they walked out of the camp, waving.

Murtagh watched them go, waving back as Saphira and Garrow followed their Riders. A content smile spread across his face, and he reached down to pick up his fallen whetstone, _It's been a while since we've been alone._

_Yes, _Thorn replied, licking a claw, _I wish we would've gone hunting, though._

_You know we can't leave him._ He watched Salavand warily as he worked, creating tiny sparks of red. Unease ate at his stomach like a pecking bird; the king was getting serious if he sent someone like Salavand after him. His oaths were weakening him by the day, thus his unhealed finger, and his scar stung with increased intensity by each passing day. Sighing, Murtagh placed his weapon aside, curling his legs up under his chin, _Do you think we'll make it to Ellesmera?_

_Hard to say. Between you and Elaina always getting into trouble, I'm surprised we made it out of Uru'baen alive._ The dragon laughed, a mocking air filling his thoughts, _You two are helpless._

Murtagh glared indignantly, _I am not helpless! _

_Oh, yes, of course you aren't,_ he eyed him coolly, _that's why you were taken captive by the Twins so easily._ Thorn's head perked up as he saw his Rider's face grow emotionless, a deep ache echoing in both their hearts, _I'm sorry; I went to far._

_No,_ a bleak smile crossed his face, _you're right. I only harm others and myself when I try to help. Ajihad might still be alive it I hadn't insisted on going with him, _he laughed bitterly, _who knows? Maybe I would still be with the Varden?_

Heavy footsteps shook the ground as Thorn moved closer to him. The dragon nudged his hand lovingly, _Yes, but then you would've have met me._

_True, _Murtagh patted his nose weakly, _I'm sorry for the life we have to live, Thorn._

_It's not so bad, _he nipped his hand gently, _I get to mess with you, so I'm pleased._ Suddenly Thorn's eyes sharpened and he hissed as he saw Salavand attempting to sit up.

Murtagh followed his gaze, quickly picking up Zar'roc from the ground. With a cautious eye, Rider and dragon watched as the man rolled from side to side, wiggling his way into an upward position. Once he was pleased with his spot, he smiled the smile of a demon, his eyes glaring daggers at Murtagh, "Not man enough to kill me, eh?" He rolled his eyes and shrugged, "Well, wouldn't be the first time."

"I thought I'd do the devil a favor and keep you away for a little longer," he stood, getting into a safer position as Salavand laughed.

"All the same; it would be no fun anyway," he eyed the younger man as he paced with a condescending air, "my drinking buddy's not their anymore, anyway."

Murtagh stopped, Zar'roc's tip underneath Salavand's throat, "What is that supposed to mean."

"You'll find out, oh yes, very soon," he said chillingly. Salavand's eyes drifted around the campsite, his face full of distaste, "Our soldiers really are pathetic. If they couldn't find you by now, then there's not doubt they would've never found you at all. Good thing the King's been scrying you--"

"What?!" Murtagh cursed, kicking himself for not thinking of protective spells. He pushed Zar'roc harder against Salavand's skin, "What has he seen?"

He shrugged, "Not my place to ask. But I do know this; you're not the only one he's been watching." He laughed at the surprise in Murtagh's face, "What, you think you're so special? I also have orders to capture that girl of yours," he eyed him arrogantly, "he's become very interested in her, for whatever reasons."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know something you do not," a dangerous glint flashed in his eye, "we have a new recruit, and she's just _itching_ to meet you." An agitated frown took the place of his smile, "You can ask your dragon about it; he's been scanning my mind since I awoke."

_Murtagh_, fear more great than any he'd experienced flooded through their link, _Galbatorix has another sorceress, well on her way of becoming a Shade. And I think--_

His eyes widened with fear, his breath like a wounded animal facing its hunter. "How--?" He stammered, lowering his weapon from Salavand's throat, "It's not possible--!"

"That's right," Salavand inched closer, taking advantage of his captor's distress, "Morzan's soul had been found. All it needs," with quick words, Salavand searched his mind for the right word in the Ancient Language, "slytha!" Thorn roared as Murtagh fell to the ground, unconscious. With lightening fast speed, he grabbed Zar'roc from Murtagh's numb hands, rolled, stood, and pointed the weapon above the Rider's heart before Thorn could impale him. "If you strike me down, I will take you with me." He smirked, knowing that he had won as the dragon backed away, "Good. Now, time to make a little deal, beast." Thorn growled, baring his fangs, "I won't touch this boy, at least not for three days, if you let me go without chase. If not," he began to drill a tiny hole into Murtagh's tunic, "I'll kill him as he sleeps."

_You need him alive, _Thorn snapped, wagging his tail intensely.

"In some instances, yes," he glared, "if Morzan is to have a living vessel." He smiled as Thorn growled again, "Of course, we really only need him alive because of you. I'm sure that witch could think of a way to make Morzan right at home in a corpse. Now, swear to me you will not come after me."

_I swear--_

"In the Ancient Language!"

He hesitated, then looked at Murtagh, who seemed to be having a bad dream. He wasn't the only one. With a sigh, Thorn recited what he'd been told to say, glaring at Salavand the entire time.

_Leave now, dog, _he stepped back, making a way for Salavand to exit.

"Thank you," he bowed his head, throwing Zar'roc to the ground. He made sure to step on Murtagh's stomach as he walked by, receiving a furious roar from Thorn as he passed by. He ignored it, shouting out of the safety of the woods, "Oh, and tell that girl that I'll get her back for spitting on me!" Thorn watched with regretful eyes as Salavand was swallowed by the dark, misty forest.

**XXXXXX**

Elaina shook her wet hair, smiling contently as the other girls gathered their things. It was nice to take a bath for the first time in weeks. Of course, they had decided on washing the clothes as well, but that part wasn't as fun. Arya had become her new best friend when she created a spell that would wash their clothes for them; Elaina hated doing chores.

"We should head back now," Katrina frowned, looking up, "it's getting late, and I want to get a fire going, least we freeze to death."

As they walked, the sun fell behind the mountain and the wind howled through the forest. Their feet crunched on fallen leaves and dry grass, Arya providing a small green light with a spell. The silence was, for some reason, making Elaina very uneasy, she quickly muttered, "So, are you happy to be going home?"

"Which one of us?" Katrina asked, a sad smile on her face. She sighed, a hand on her stomach, "I guess this'll be a year since I was kidnapped, eh? I never thought I'd be returning to Carvahall like this."

"I'm so sorry."

Her face perked up, a warm smile on her face, "Don't get me wrong. I'm happy that I got to meet more of Roran's family, and Garrow is just a dear," she put a hand on Elaina's shoulder, "and I'm excited to get to know my sister-in-law."

"What?!" Elaina blushed fiercely, "I don't . . .! It's not . . .! He wouldn't ask me to marry . . .!"

"Please," Arya laughed, "you two are so in love it's practically written on your forehead. You don't have to be ashamed," her smile dimmed, and a deep sorrow was reflected in her midnight green eyes, "it is a beautiful thing, to love someone so dearly."

Elaina watched the elf's face for a moment, realizing that she'd been scared very deeply, as if her whole world had been ripped away from her in an instant, casting her into a cold nothingness that she lived in each day. Hot tears weld behind her eyes, and she began to understand why this woman was so distant from them. Not wanting to resurface anymore painful memories, she quickly asked, "What's it like, you know, in Ellesmera?"

"Hm . . .?" She seemed to have awakened from a dream, "Oh, right; it's hard to explain. It's breathtakingly beautiful, but it is just as equally dangerous. Be advised, nothing is as it seems. My people have spent hundreds of years protecting our forest home from outsiders, and humans are a most easy prey for most anything that inhabits it." She saw the fear on both Katrina and Elaina's faces; she laughed, "Don't worry! Once you're inside the city boarders, no harm will come to you. We are a peaceful people, if not prideful, but you will all be welcomed with open arms." She grinned playfully, "But there is not meat to be eaten in any of our cities."

"No!" Elaina cried, grabbing her head, "Whatever shall I do?" They laughed as they began to re-enter the campsite.

There was no fire; the only light that of Arya's small bulb. She entered cautiously, "That's odd, surely someone would've stayed to watch Salavand--"

"Murtagh!" Elaina was the first one to see him, writhing on the ground, his eyes clenched shut. Thorn was no where to be seen, nor Salavand or the other men. Her skirts rustled as she kneeled down beside him, lifting his head into her lap. He would not wake, "Murtagh? Murtagh, open your eyes!"

"Where are the others?" Katrina lit a small fire. There was no sign of struggle, only a few scratch marks from the dragons' claws. She watched as Arya circled the encampment, "Well?"

"There are two sets of tracks; one of them is very fresh." She pointed behind Elaina, "My guess is that, somehow, Salavand overcame Murtagh while the others went off to do who knows what. In his condition, Murtagh should be the last one in charge of watching a prisoner." She cursed, "We should have never split up. And where is that blasted dragon? Elaina, can you--!" She stopped, staring in aw as the girl began to glow a pale light. The dragon tattoo on her back began to glimmer, and there was a pleasant heat emitting from her body.

"Elaina!" Arya had to grab Katrina's arm before she got to close. She struggled, then glared, "What's wrong with you? She's in trouble!"

Arya shook her head, "No; watch." Both women watched intently as a glowing white light spread from Elaina's body to Murtagh's, tiny blades of grass swaying in a strange wind that encircled them. Elaina's eyes were closed now, her body seeming to be absorbed by whatever magic surrounded her. Her hair began to dance on this wind, and from her tattoo spread two dragon-like wings made of golden light. They encircled both she and Murtagh, their bodies lost from view.

_My body . . . I feel so, light._ Elaina opened her eyes to find herself hovering in a space that was neither light nor dark, by a mixture of the two. In this gray twilight you could feel nothing, only the crushing feeling that you would lose yourself in the abyss. She screamed, scared that her very being would be swallowed by this eternal gray. Then a sound was heard, followed closely by another. It was a voice, deep and sorrowful, and the jingling of chains. It was an eerie noise, but it was something, and anything was better than sinking into this bottomless pit. Elaina hovered towards it, the world around her growing steadily darker.

Soon she found herself in a dreamlike world, surrounded in darkness. The only light was that of her own, her body a mere silhouette floating in space. Elaina searched for the sound, the voice becoming more pained by the minute. A horrible cold filled the air, sending chills through her body. A burst of light blinded her, red as fire, and lit the space she was in. All around her were flames, below her a man chained so tightly the metal sank into his skin. A scar that stretched from his right shoulder to his left hip shown in the firelight. "Murtagh!" She cried, or would have, but her voice would not carry in the space between them. Clenching her fists, she dove down as far as she could, determine to tear away those chains.

Another flash of light, a cry, and Elaina bounced back, rubbing her forehead. Something was caging him inside. She cursed, pounding on the invisible wall. With each hit Murtagh sent out another cry, louder than the previous. Frustrated tears formed in her eyes, and she drifted back, trying to think. Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in her ears, _Elaina?_

_Thorn?!_ She looked around, tears flowing from her eyes, _How do I get to him? He's--!_

_You keep attacking his mental walls. If you keep hitting them, _an image of the dragon's face floated before her, _he'll go insane._

_But he's hurt!_ Elaina pointed downward, wincing as the chains grew visibly tighter, _We have to help him!_

A deep sadness filled Thorn's eyes, _Those are the chains of our oaths. I have them as well, though I can resist them better. But that's not the point, Elaina,_ his voice grew serious, _you have to come back. If you stay here any longer, you may loose yourself in the depths of Murtagh's mind. You do not understand the power you have yet. _Thorn sighed, taking a gentler tone, _You're endangering yourself along with Murtagh. Now, come back._

_How?_ She asked, never taking her eyes off of Murtagh.

_Follow my voice. . ._ Thorn's image quickly turned into a red ball of light, darting off into the darkness like a red lightening bolt.

"I'll help you," she bit her lip, "very soon." Before it was out of view, Elaina turned, zooming off after the red bulb.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She felt cold; every limb hurting as if she'd just ran fifty miles. A fire crackled happily and she could faintly make out worried voices. A warm hand rested on her shoulder, and she opened her eyes to see a pair of crystalline blue ones staring worriedly down at her. A faint smile appeared weakly on her face, "Hello, Lian."

"Thank heavens you're all right." He sighed deeply, his shoulders slouching. Behind her sat Eragon, his face showing the same relief that Lian's showed. The half-elf frowned, rubbing her forehead gently, "Are you able to sit up?"

She nodded shakily, attempted to sit up, but her elbow gave out and she quickly began to crash back to the ground. Luckily Eragon was there to break her fall, "Slowly now. Whatever that was drained a lot of your energy."

"Murtagh. . .!"

"He's not shaking anymore, but," Lian said, nodding his head to wear Murtagh lay. Thorn rested beside him, Saphira close behind, as Arya dapped his forehead with a warp cloth. Lian sighed, "We need to get him to Ellesmera; I don't know how much longer he can take."

"I saw him; inside his mind!" With Eragon's help, she sat upward, disoriented, "I was only a few feet away from him, but this wall kept getting in my way. If I could get past that--"

"How did you get inside his mind?" Eragon asked, "Can you use magic?"

"N-no, well, I don't really know." She frowned, feeling lightheaded, "I think it's all instinct, like the time I transferred the dragon egg to Murtagh--"

"That was you?!" Exclaimed Eragon, his eyes wide, "Elaina, this is amazing! Do you know what you're capable of?" She looked at him quizzically, "You can bypass Galbatorix's barriers! In other words, if you can get past that wall . . . !"

"You can free Murtagh and Thorn." Lian frowned, "But why is it that she has this power?"

Eragon shrugged, "Who knows?"

"Um," Elaina rose her hand weakly, "not to be rude or anything, but I'm starving. Can we eat something?" Laughing, Lian and Eragon helped her up, walking towards the fire when they were sure she could support herself. As she watched them pass, an uneasy feeling steadily grew inside her stomach, as if she were being watched by some great evil far away. She looked down at her hands, finding that she was trembling. _Am I afraid of myself?_

"Elaina!" Katrina's called jerked her out of her thoughts, and she wobbled as best she could to sit beside her friends, deciding that she would worry about such matters when the time came.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	30. Carvahall

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Thirty: Carvahall**

**Reviewers: Hurray Reviewers! You make a sick person very happy! Lol, stupid sinus infections and their ability to destroy your brain. Anyway, sorry for the long wait, and hopefully I'll update soon! Please enjoy and review!**

Consciousness came slowly and unwanted as Murtagh awoke the next morning. Something cold was covering his eyes, and his body tingled as if it had fallen asleep. Next to him he heard rasping, deep breaths, the warm air moving his hair and tickling his ear. The only comfortable thing his body was aware of was the warm, soft thing that his head lay on. Reaching up, Murtagh removed the cold cloth and blushed; Elaina was sleeping with his head in her lap. He smiled as he turned his head, finding that the raspy breathing was coming from Thorn.

He moved as carefully as he could to remove himself from Elaina's lap without waking her. For the longest time he crouched, scanning the area in the predawn light. Roran and Katrina lay wrapped in each other's arms while Garrow slept behind them, his head resting next to Roran's. Lian was leaning against a stone, his blanket flung three feet in front of his body, while Arya slept underneath a nearby tree, her legs tucked under her chin. He almost laughed when he saw Eragon. Of course Saphira had a protective wing over his body, but that didn't stop his head from peaking out of the opening. Eragon lay, dead to the world, with his mouth hanging open and a hand sprawled past his head.

An overwhelming feeling of happiness flooded through his body, and Murtagh stood smiling, _this is my family. _He wrapped his arms around himself for warmth, taking in a deep breath of they earthy smelling air. The forest around them had gone full bloom into autumn, their colors surrounding them in a rich display of reds, yellows, browns, and the occasional green. A frown quickly replaced his content smile; soon the leaves would be gone, and with them any disguise from the Ra'zac and their flying steeds. He shivered, lost in thought as to how they could evade this new problem.

Suddenly cold hands wrapped themselves around his eyes, and he jumped. Only when he heard quiet giggling did he relax, "Elaina?"

"Now who's easy to kill?" She chirped, releasing his eyes. He turned to face her, a warm smile and bright eyes staring back at him, "Good morning."

He nodded, "Did you sleep well? When I woke up, you were sleeping sitting up."

"I was?" She laughed quietly, "I wasn't supposed to be; they put me in charge of the watch," she frowned as she saw Eragon stir, "let's go somewhere else to talk; I don't want to wake the others." Normally this was when Murtagh would've said something like, 'it's to dangerous right now', or, 'go back to sleep; I'll take watch.' However, his entire being was too tired to even argue right now, and he just simply allowed the girl to lead him out of the campsite by his hand, barely even aware of where they were going.

She stopped abruptly, and Murtagh almost ran into her. She laughed, "Sorry, but this isn't that far from the camp, just out of earshot if we don't yell." She was frowning now, a worried expression in her eye, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"About your oaths." He looked away from her, "What? Did you think I couldn't handle it?"

"I--" He kept his eyes to the ground, "I didn't want you to worry anymore than you already do."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Her face was turning a slight pink, "If you don't let me know these things, I'm only going to worry more," she reached up; grabbing his face with both her hands, "let me help you. I am not so weak as to collapse under the weight of the world." She held his gaze, frustration in her eyes, "I love you to much."

"Elaina . . ." He stared at her for the longest time, then began to inch closer. She didn't wait for him, as Elaina tip-toed to make herself taller and kissed him first. Murtagh wrapped his arms around her, and for the first time since leaving the ship he felt alive again. Regretfully, he pulled away, holding her hand, "We should go back before the others wake." She hugged him one more time, then followed him back to the campsite, squeezing his hand occasionally.

_So, where were you two?_ Thorn's eyes were open, but his head stayed on the ground. His mouth opened wide to reveal rows of pure white teeth in a yawn, _What's wrong with you? Both of your faces are pink._

Murtagh rolled his eyes, _It's none of your business. _Before the dragon could reply with a sarcastic remark, Murtagh quickly asked, _How long have you been awake?_

_Long enough to see you two sneaking off into the forest. Do you know how dangerous that is? Remember what happened last time?_ He was shouting in his head; Elaina giggled as Murtagh winced, but quickly stopped as his anger turned on her, _Don't think I'm only lecturing Murtagh here. You're just as guilty. I saw you dragging him off into the woods. What would've happened if Salavand, or a Ra'zac, or something just jumped out of nowhere, huh?_

_Sorry? _She shrugged, her face slightly ashamed, _we didn't go that far. . ._

_It doesn't matter!_ He growled lightly, _Have you ever heard the expression think before you leap? Well, start thinking! The next time one of you gets captured or something, I'm not going to come after you._

_I love you too, Thorn. _Murtagh laughed as he heard someone grumble awake, _See what you did? You've gone and woken someone up._

Thorn eyed him flatly, suddenly opening his mouth to let loose an earth-shaking roar. Everyone's head popped up, and a triumphant smirk traced along his lips, _How's that? Now we can start moving again._

Both Rider and dragon glared down each other as Elaina walked around the camp, explaining what had happened and that nothing was wrong.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Despite the rude awakening, everyone seemed to be in a good mood. The sky was crystal clear, and through the canopies the warm sunshine lit a freckled path through the forest. Eragon led the way now, more confident to which direction he should go, for he'd found an old deer path he used to follow while hunting. The trees were too thick for Saphira and Thorn's bulk, so they took flight above the group, keeping an eye out for anything coming from ahead or behind. Garrow stayed with the group, still large but small enough to scrape through the forest.

By evening the trees soon turned to merely brush, and soon the bushes were disappearing as they came to an opening in the mountain. The sunlight dimmed in a majestic display of purples and oranges. There, in the shadows below them, was Palancar Valley. Everyone stood in a respectful silence as the three from Carvahall stared down into the tiny valley that was once their home. It took a cold wind to snap them out of their trance, the smell of smoke drifting on the breeze. Murtagh frowned, looking to Eragon, "Would there be any houses separate from the town?"

He shook his head, "No, none that would have survived anyway." Eragon stared harder, then cursed quite profoundly, "There are tiny lights glimmering around where Carvahall should be."

"Bastards," Roran was seething with rage, his fists clenched so tightly the knuckles were white, "how dare they stay there!"

There was a long silence, everyone wearing mournful expressions. Elaina frowned, watching as the sun went down. The world was so cruel sometimes; as if her friends' home being destroyed wasn't enough, now the very ones who burned it were living there. Anger flashed through her as she imagined Imperial Soldiers living in her own home of Furnost. She began to shake, her thoughts only enraging her more.

"It's alright," a cold hand touched her own, and she looked up in shock to find that it belonged to Eragon. He had a sad smile on his face, his eyes holding a deep wound, "Everyone made it out okay, so my home really isn't gone." He sighed, a determined look upon his face, "Well, now we have another obstacle; how to get past even _more_ soldiers."

"It would be better under the cover of night," Arya tied her hair back with a string, staring down into the valley, "if we leave now, we could probably reach it by nightfall tomorrow."

Roran shook his head, "We would all be too exhausted incase of combat," he rubbed his eyes, "and there's always the threat that Salavand will be with them."

Eragon nodded, the hair on the back of his neck tickling his skin. An idea came to him then, and a devilish smirk played across his face, "Or, we could have a little fun."

Murtagh raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"Follow me, and bring Thorn with you," he dashed off, Saphira closely behind, "I'll tell you along the way." He didn't give Murtagh much choice in the matter, for he'd already sprinted down the mountainside. Before climbing onto Saphira's back, he called, "Roran! Lian! Watch the camp while we're gone!" With that he was up in the sky, Thorn and Murtagh chasing after him.

**Carvahall**

"This is insane, Eragon," grumbled Murtagh, who was crouching behind a bush. They'd landed the dragons a mile or two away from the old town, their scales hidden in the midnight darkness. He watched like a cat as soldier after soldier walked back and forth around the perimeter, making sure their tiny strong-hold was protected. Luckily, there were no signs of any Ra'zac, then again it was very hard to tell if you couldn't see.

Eragon only shrugged and whispered, "This'll work; trust me. We need to get more supplies anyway," he sighed, "since we did so wonderfully at Therinsford."

"Right. So," he unsheathed Zar'roc, "what's the plan." Eragon was quiet. Murtagh tapped his shoulder, "Eragon?"

"Wait for it," he pointed at two sentries that were frighteningly close to there location, "when they come near us, I'll knock them out and we'll steal their uniforms."

"What?!" Eragon shushed him, "that's stupid! You can't fight with a normal blade; you'll be at the end of someone's sword before you can say one spell!"

Eragon eyed him flatly, a look that was very similar to his brother's, "That's why you're coming along. I'll do the magic, you do the stabbing."

"And if that doesn't work?"

He pointed to where Saphira and Thorn lay, "We call for back-up." He looked up quickly, hearing a branch snap. Both soldiers were almost upon them now, their swords sheathed and a very urgent expression on one man's face.

One of the men ran forward, only inches away from where Eragon lay hidden. He groped at his pant strings, "Oh man, I hate that patrol! You never get any breaks."

The other quickly joined him, though he turned his back and cursed, "Gods Egan, curse you and your bladder. Hurry up, will you? If they catch us out here, we'll get a cut in pay.''

"Yeah, yeah, hold on; I'm almost done." The sound of liquid splashing covered up Eragon and Murtagh's movement, as they inched closer and closer. With one word, Eragon put Egan's partner down, the man landing with a small thump. Egan finished, sighing, "Gods, that feels better--" He started down at his friend in shock, "Alfred?" He shot to his left; his eyes landed directly on Eragon, "You!" Before he could unsheathe his own weapon, Murtagh jumped up and slammed Zar'roc's hilt into his head, knocking him out or killing him; Murtagh didn't know. He caught the body before it fell into the puddle, not wanting to be the one wearing a wet uniform.

Eragon was livid, but managed to control his voice, "Why did you do that?! I could've knocked him out with magic!"

Murtagh stared at him coldly, "We're about to irradiate an entire camp, Eragon. You don't intend to put everyone there asleep now, do you?" He pointed a finger at Eragon's face, "You're a warrior now, Eragon. I suggest you start acting like one." Turning his back to his brother, he began to undress the limp body and laughed, "I hope he's my size."

Eragon said nothing, furiously ripping the clothes off of the man that would probably be the only survivor.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

A mournful sigh escaped him as Eragon walked the same road that he walked so many times as a child. The walls that surrounded the destroyed town were old, but Eragon could tell they came from the forests beyond, below them a vicious pit with spikes awaiting anyone foolish enough to jump over. All around them were small military tents, the only two buildings remaining (barely) were the tavern and Horst's house, which was still perched on its hill. The ashes of the other, less fortunate houses, lay scattered about, the imprints of the previous buildings still visible. His heart wept as his eyes lay to where Brom's house once stood; all the volumes of knowledge and gods know what else burned or destroyed. Each step only fueled his rage further, the only sound in his head was that of his teeth grinding.

"Good thing we didn't just jump over," Murtagh said, tilting his head towards the pit, "though we wouldn't have to worry about graves."

"Shut up, will you?" Eragon snapped, "This is serious. We need to find the storage shelter."

Murtagh ignored the venom in his brother's voice, pointing to Quimby's old tavern, which had two guards in front of the doorway, "Five crowns says it's that one."

"And just how do you propose we get in there?"

"Like this," he began to walk towards the building, until Eragon stopped him, "what?"

"Do you know what you're doing?!"

Smiling like a fox, he said, "I'm making this up as I go." He jerked out of Eragon's grasp, walking confidently towards the armed pair.

The soldiers looked beaten, almost ready to fall over. Murtagh hoped that they'd been drinking as well; inebriation always made a man a faster friend. Putting on his shiniest smile, Murtagh saluted and said, "We're here to take over your shift!"

One of them eyed him lazily, his eyes bloodshot, "Oh yeah?" His words were slurred, "And just who're you two?" The man beside him gave them equally suspicious looks, his eyes equally bloodshot.

Eragon stepped forward, "I'm Alfred, and this is Egan. We've come to trade posts with you."

"A--" He hiccupped, "Alfred? Aren't you a little young to be here, kid?" He poked him in the chest, a warm, sleepy smile on his saggy face, "You should go back home! It's dangerous, ya know."

Murtagh laughed, "Don't worry, friend. He may look young, but I'm sure once you sober up he'll be as old as your grandfather."

There was a long silence; Eragon and Murtagh both sweating under their stolen armor. Then the drunken soldiers burst out laughing, patting Eragon on the back, "Okay, _old timer, _you can take over from here. We were waiting for you guys anyway." The two stumbled down the stairs, one tripping and almost knocking Murtagh over. They laughed again, then tottered off towards a distant tent.

"The army's finest," commented Murtagh as he rushed up the stairs. He motioned for Eragon to follow, "Come on, hurry up!"

Darting up the stairs, Eragon rushed behind the door, closed it quickly, and spoke a few words that would protect them from wandering ears.

Murtagh whistled as he walked past crate after crate, each box stacked high enough to touch the ceiling. Any furniture that had previously decorated the room was now gone, the floor a different color in certain spots where they once stood. The smell of dust and mildew hung in the air, and there were still shards of broken glass scattered about the floor, probably from an old fight.

Eragon walked to the window, the floor creaking beneath his feet, and peered out. The two soldiers who were originally going to shift were standing on the porch now, their backs turned to him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, "We can't go out the same way we came in now."

Murtagh merely shrugged, "I wasn't planning on it anyway. Isn't there a back door to this place?" He opened a crate of vegetables; the wooden box lid exploded into a million tiny pieces.

"There's a door in the cellar that leads out back, but Quimby always left it locked with a thick chain around the handles." Murtagh stared at him, "What? Oh!" He laughed sheepishly, "Magic. Right."

He rolled his eyes, "Help me out, instead of standing around and being useless."

Soon they had two cloak-fulls of food and other items stashed away on their backs, the room in utter chaos. Even with the spell Eragon had casted on the building, Murtagh was surprised that no one had heard their rummaging; at least four crates toppled to the floor, exploding on contact (one was even full of bottles of alcohol).

Eragon scanned the room once more, nodded in approval, and began to walk towards the back, "Come on; this way." Murtagh followed as Eragon opened a creaking wooden door, the room below pitch dark. With one hand, Murtagh groped in the darkness to find his way, his fingers feeling from rough wood to cold stone. He felt himself descending, every step growing colder as they walked underground. A small shiver ran up his spine, and the sound of dripping water bounced off the walls.

He yelped in surprise as Eragon lit up a tiny blue ball in his hand. The younger of the two laughed, "Sorry."

"Warn me next time," Murtagh's eyes began to focus around the tiny light, with the occasional dots dancing before his eyes. They were in an old wine cellar, its contents scraped clean from either the soldiers or the villagers that left before. The room was carved out of stone, the floor nothing but dirt and a few boards where water leaked from the ceiling. Cobwebs hung in the corners, in cubby holes, and between the columns of old shelves, adding a haunted look to the already eerie basement. Murtagh had never been claustrophobic, but even in this closed space he found it hard to breath.

"There it is," Eragon said, pointing to two doors, secured tightly with a padlock and chains. His face was deathly pale in the glow of the blue light, his footsteps echoing through the room as he walked towards the door. Reaching up and grabbing the lock, Eragon said quietly, "Jierda!" The chains fell in a heap around his feet, looking like a dead snake. Eragon turned, smiling, "Okay, let's go--"

"Wait!" An uneasy feeling kept gnawing at his stomach, and his gut was telling him that something bad was about to happen. Placing his cloak on the floor, Murtagh cautiously approached the doors, pushing Eragon lightly behind him. A small slit of moonlight shone through the crack between the doors, a small silver line casting on his eye. Then it vanished, if only for a moment, but long enough to tell him that someone was outside. "Damn."

"What now?" Eragon began to pace angrily around the room.

"Can you carry both packages?" The sound of steel scraping against leather followed his words, as Murtagh reached slowly for the handle of the door. Eragon nodded, hurrying to pick up the other cloak. Once Eragon was somewhat hidden, Murtagh frowned, his hand tightly on Zar'roc's hilt, "Wait five minutes, then run out of here. I'll distract them for you."

"And if that doesn't work?"

Murtagh smirked, "Call for back-up." With his left hand, Murtagh shot the door open, hearing a satisfying crunch on the other side. A call, a shout, and two more soldiers were rounding the corner, and third trying to recover from the fright of having a supposedly locked door jump open and crush into your partner. His eyes grew cold as Murtagh swung his blade into the legs of the frightened soldier, the man collapsing to the ground with one less leg. Before the man could cry out louder, Murtagh dropped Zar'roc's blade onto his neck, the steel kissing the skin until the head rolled away.

A loud _thunk_ to his left, and the head of a spear was impaled into the wood of the door. Murtagh quickly rolled out of the cellar, bringing his weapon above his head just in time to parry another man's sword. Sparks danced off the blades as the soldier repeatedly beat down on Zar'roc, hoping to break Murtagh's defense. As another man was coming up from behind, Murtagh kicked his attacker's legs out from under him, a spear that was meant for him sinking into the man's back. With a frustrated growl the new soldier charged, drawing his sword. Murtagh jumped to his feet, he and the man locked in the deadly dance of swordplay.

Murtagh cursed as the soldier was deliberately forcing him out in the open, the lantern lights glimmering off the flashing blades. The soldier stabbed for his stomach, but Murtagh spun away, only to have a return blow come for his shoulder. He flicked Zar'roc up in time to avoid being decapitated, but at the price of loosing more ground. More shouts now, and in the corners of his eyes he could see more troops coming out of their tents or posts, all armed and ready to fight. A strange whistle went past his ear, and Murtagh watched as an arrow pierced through the barricade, missing his head by mere inches.

Three other men soon joined the first, and Murtagh had his hands more than full on trying to defend himself. If it wasn't a spear head lashing out towards his leg, it was an ax coming for his back, or a sword for his arm. One man made a move for his head, and Murtagh ducked, the blade hitting another man in the arm. With an opening, he trusted Zar'roc's red blade into the stomach of the spear wielder, kicking the man with the ax in the knee. As he buckled, the two with the swords both went for Murtagh's arms. The one of the right was slower, due to his injury, however the one on the left hit his mark. Murtagh cried out, ripping Zar'roc from the corpse and cutting off the man's hand.

Growing visibly more tired, Murtagh fought for his life as ten more men surrounded him, archers with their bows at the ready. His breath came like a cornered wolf's as blood trickled down Zar'roc's blade. A man from the front lunged forward, his ax in the air. Murtagh quickly checked him, but then exploding pain erupted across his shoulder. Caught off guard, one of the men had shot him from above, the arrow protruding from underneath his left shoulder blade. With a bloodlust he never knew he had, Murtagh yelled, quickly cutting through anyone who stood in his way. _This better be a good enough distraction,_ he thought, hoping that Eragon had made it out safely.

Five minutes passed; three men died as Murtagh spun and danced around them, blood splattering all around them.

Ten minutes, still no sign of Eragon or the dragons. He tried to contact Thorn, but was to busy dodging blow after blow.

Eighteen minutes; Zar'roc began to feel heavy, and a cut above his eyebrow bled down into his eye, stinging the sensitive tissue. For every man he cut down, two would take his place. Arrows littered the ground, and two were lodged into his body. A new one rested in his calf, and his movements grew sluggish as the blood left his body. A sword tried to pierce him through the ribs, but his own blade deflected it with a loud _clang._

Soon he was backed up against the big house on the hill, his breath haggard and sweat drenching his hair. The soldiers closed in, their weapons on point. His eyes darted around in the night to see if help was on the way, but all he could make out were small blurs of lantern lights. With a snarl on his face, Murtagh raised his sword in one more attempt to cut down his foes and break free. He was about to lung forward when a voice inside his head screamed, _Don't move!_

He looked up in relief to see Thorn, followed closely by Saphira and Eragon, flying over the camp. A jet of red flame erupted from the dragon's mouth, and the shrieks and cries of the soldiers told Murtagh that this fight was over. He shielded his face from the heat as the fire consumed anything in its path, an acrid smell of burning flesh floating on the air.

As fast as lightening, Thorn dove down and glided across the ground. Murtagh ran towards him, grabbing a white spike on his dragon's neck, and pulled himself into his saddle, grateful for the cool wind that battered his face as they rose higher and higher. As they grew level with Saphira, he turned his head weakly and asked, "What took you so long?"

"Someone found the bodies of our first victims," Eragon said, a worried note in his voice, "are you all right?"

He nodded, looking down at his leg. The arrow still stood, deep in his calf, every wing beat sending blinding pain through his body. Biting down on his lip, Murtagh ripped the arrow out of his leg, a small whimper escaping him. Breathing hard, he healed the opening with a few words, then looked back to Eragon, "You're going to have to help me with the other."

Eragon nodded, his eyes on the arrow that protruded from Murtagh's back. He looked back, a mirthless laugh floating on the wind, "That's twice that Carvahall's been burned." He looked to Murtagh, but the older Rider had collapsed on Thorn's neck, his eyes closed. He sighed, leaning his own head against Saphira's warmth as they flew to the others.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Elaina sat on the edge of a nearby cliff, her eyes desperately scanning the horizon for any sign of the two dragons. They'd seen smoke floating from where the town lay, forming an ominous cloud that unnerved everyone. Garrow paced anxiously behind her, tiny smoke clouds puffing out of his nose, _They've been gone for to long. Something's happened._

She tried to smile, but it only came out looking fake, _Oh ye of little faith. They'll be back soon,_ Elaina turned once more to the fire, saying to herself, _I hope. _Suddenly, two small dots rose from the smoke, and she squinted her eyes so hard that they wrinkled in the corners. Jumping up, she starting shouting, "They're back! They're back!"

Roran was the first one to reach her, followed closely by Lian and Arya; Katrina was sleeping. He grinned, scratching the hair on his chin, "I'll be damned, they made it!"

It took no less than fifteen minutes for the Riders to rejoin their group, both looking ragged and exhausted. Elaina winced as she saw the arrow on Murtagh's back, helping him slide out of Thorn's saddle. He only gave her a tired smile, leaning against her for support as Eragon grasped the shaft. She held his hand tightly as the metal was ripped from his muscle, no minding the fact that it felt like he was crushing her hand. Within seconds Eragon had healed the wound, waving the arrow in front of his brother, "You want to keep it?"

He laughed, "No thanks; a bit to sadistic for me." He looked to Elaina, who was staring at the bloodstained arrowhead, "I'm fine."

"I know," she said lightly, "I just feel like a wimp now."

"What? Why?"

She looked to her feet, her face turning red, "I passed out when you removed that arrow from me, and that was only one . . ."

Murtagh shrugged, "What does it matter? That was a different arrow anyway." She didn't answer, so he quickly changed the subject, "Let's get something to eat already! All that pillaging has made me hungry."

"To the bags!" Lian shouted, his face absolutely beaming. Elaina and Murtagh laughed as they watched Eragon and the half-elf race to the newly acquired stores.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I've been writing this since December now I guess; this is probably the longest fanfic I've every written. You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'm having a pole on who's my readers' favorite character. It can be anyone from the story, so if you don't mind I'd really like to know. Why? Because I'm a nerd I guess, lol.**

**Eragon: It'll most definatly be me; I'm just to sexy not to like.**

Murtagh: Yeah, whatever. You know they're only reading it 'cause I'm here.

Eragon: They would've never known you existed unless they read the book, WITH MY NAME ON IT! Vote for me, please!  


**Elaina: Um, I dont' really care, but I'm voting for Thorn.**


	31. A Promise Kept

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3491**

**Chapter Thirty-one: A Promise Kept**

**Reviewers: HURRAY REVIEWERS! You make a sick girl feel one-hundred percent better (well, at least you motivate me to write, lol). I really like this chapter; it's long, funny, romantic, and a little sad all in one. Well, maybe I should just shut up and let you read it, hm? Okay then! Read and review, but most of all enjoy!**

**Blah: The results for the poll will be at the bottom! (Oooh, the suspense!)**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"You seem to be in a good mood," Elaina laughed as Lian spun around on one heel, beaming, "what's with you?"

The half-elf only stared up into the clear blue sky, breathed in deeply, and sighed, "We are out in the OPEN!" As he screamed, nearby birds that were searching for worms flew up in an uproar, angered that someone had disturbed their hunt.

"Keep it up," Murtagh snapped, "I'm sure the ARMY will appreciate your voice giving us away."

"Sour puss," Lian said, frowning slightly. It didn't last long; he quickly turned and raced towards his sister, tugging at her sleeve, "Hey, how much longer until we reach Ellesméra?"

Despite herself she smiled, "Only another week; it very dense, very dark woods." Lian groaned, and she burst out laughing.

The day went by without much trouble. The group had stopped by Carvahall for only a moment, Roran and Eragon wanting to pay respects to their uncle once more before leaving. There were no sign of survivors, burned bodies and ashes scattered about the ground, the skeletons of old buildings crumbling into dust. Murtagh watched, feeling a strange sensation as he watched the remainder of his family pay tribute to a man he'd never known. Would he grieve like them, if he had met his uncle?

The group continued on in a somber mood, until Lian and Thorn decided to try and lighten things up. Of course, they're little prank turned for the worse, as the field mice they found didn't find their way into Murtagh's bag, but Katrina's. The girl had shrieked so loud that everyone thought that the baby was on its way, but she only scowled at Lian and the red beast, tossing her bag at them in a blind rage.

Now they walked along an old road that would take them to the mouth of the Anora, of course they would have to cross the river once the time came. But for the first time in a while, they were making good time, and their spirits were high, so a small trek through the valley was more like a pleasant stroll. The sun was high, but in the valley it was pleasantly cool, the shadows of the autumn trees lying lazily on the small dirt path.

Eragon, his mind wondering elsewhere, relied on Saphira to guide him through the unused path. Her scales felt cool against his skin, and he sighed contently, _That was my fault, wasn't it?_

_Eragon, _she craned her head to look at him, but quickly turned back to the road, _if it's any solace, it was _our_ fault. The only thing we can do now is to defeat Galbatorix, and make amends. At least everyone survived._

_No, _hot rage boiled in his stomach, making him nauseas, _not everyone. Bridget lost her husband, and Parr, and countless others all died fleeing from an army meant for us. _

She was silent for a while, then she whispered, _then we will kill twice as many soldiers in their name._ Saphira nudged him lightly on the arm, _Now I suggest you start paying attention to where you're walking; your shoes are a mess from all the puddles you've walked through._

He looked down and cursed, Murtagh shooting a curious glance at him. Eragon laughed, "Sorry, I was in another world."

"Hm, well, once you're done exploring," he waved his hand around, "would you mind telling us which way to go again?"

"Doesn't Arya know?"

She shook her head, loose strands of hair dancing around her face, "I've never been on this side of the forest, of course now that I've seen it, I deeply regret it." She smiled in content as she looked up, the tree lined road casting triangular shadows on her cat-like face, "It is very beautiful out here."

"This used to be an old Urgal path, when they used to life this close to the valley," Eragon laughed at everyone's nervous expression, "with the emphasis on 'used to'." Truth be told, he had no idea if the Urgals still used it or not, the only time he'd ever walked this path was with Garrow when he was very small. The memory of the perfect summer day almost brought a tear to his eye, until a little voice said to him, _He's still with you._ Smiling, he started to walk faster, his eyes more alert as the group traveled down the tiny road.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It was late in the evening by the time they reached the mouth of the Anora River, a nameless lake resting before them. They water shone in the beautiful twilight colors of the night, the mountains reflecting on its perfect surface. Eragon waved, "We'll rest here for the night; no need to go into Du Weldenvarden exhausted." He began to remove the sacks from Saphira's saddle, resting them gently on the ground as the others did the same.

The night was a lonely, quiet sound, for the toads and crickets of the summer days had long since left the fields, very few birds were left to sing any songs. The quiet unnerved them, everyone slightly more jittery than necessary. Elaina was sitting near the edge of the lake, watching the placid waters that reminded her of her own lake back home. Homesickness welled inside her, and for a moment she was lost in the memories of her childhood. That is, until a colossal splash woke her out of her dream, followed quickly by two others. She looked up and laughed; Lian, Eragon, and Saphira had jumped into the lake, and were now cursing as to how cold it was.

"If I would've known this was the last chance to take a bath before the elves," Roran cursed, wading into the water, "gods, why didn't I use that cursed hot spring?" He yelped as Katrina pushed him in, giggling.

Elaina looked around, "Where's Murtagh? Shouldn't he take a bath?"

Katrina pointed forward, "He's up a little farther, chasing after Thorn." She smirked, putting a hand on her hip, "And I suppose you're going to go after him."

"Well--"

"Hey, Elaina!" Lian was waving frantically from the water, "Why don't you join us! It's boring if it's just us guys!"

"Shut up!" Eragon dunked his head under the water, holding him there until Roran forced his own head under.

Elaina laughed, "Um, I think I'll be going now. You wanna come with me," she pointed to the others, "It might be safer."

"Someone has to make sure those idiots don't drowned," she winked, "I'm sure Arya would just stand by and watch."

"Ahem," the both jumped as the elf stood behind them, "believe it or not, they are worth saving." She heard Lian shout, followed by a curse from Eragon, "Well, most of the time."

"I'm going to find Murtagh," she shrugged, "I'll pick up some firewood on the way too, since those geniuses lacked the sense to do so before jumping into a freezing lake." They waved, keeping their eyes on the men, on their toes to see if someone would do something stupid.

Leaves crunched under her feet as Elaina walked along the edge of the lake, a gentle breeze tossing her hair about her eyes. In the shadow of the mountains it was hard for her to make out where she was going, a lot of times relying on the reflection of the lake to light her path. The only noise about her was the splashes of jumping fish, or so she hoped they were fish, and there were no sighs of Murtagh or his dragon. She sighed, about to give up, when a small red light began to glow a few feet away. She instantly recognized Thorn's red scales, and began to run, very carefully, towards the beast.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Why don't you get in; you stink, _Thorn snapped, trying to nudge his Rider into the cold water, more for his amusement then for the fact of bathing.

He shrugged, examining a dirty sleeve, _I'll jump in when you do._

_No way! Do you know how cold it is? _He snorted, shaking slightly. An amused feeling touched their link, and he growled, _Oh, you're funny._

Murtagh stood and stretched his legs. True, the aspect of a bath did seem inviting, but he abhor cold water, and the fact that his magic capabilities were on the downside at the moment only made him dread the cold more. Still, he didn't want the elves thinking he was evil _and _dirty, then again, he didn't know why he should care if he made a good impression or not; he was going to be a prisoner anyway.

A sudden flash of red, and Thorn's head was in the air, sniffing at the breeze, _Someone's coming; Elaina, I think._

_Well, there goes my bath, _he said smiling, happy to have an excuse to avoid the cold water. He could see her now, faintly but coming closer by every second. She was running along the shoreline, apparently able to see the fire Thorn had started earlier. Dread filled him as an image of her falling into the lake crossed his mind, _She's clumsy enough to do it, _he thought, smiling.

_Maybe you'll get that bath after all?_ Thorn laughed, laying his head back down. He eyed his Rider as the man ran off to greet the girl, a content humming shaking his body.

Murtagh, grateful that she, in fact, didn't fall in, stopped in front of her, "What are you doing so far out?"

"I," she panted, "I could ask you the s-same question." An accusing finger shot up into his face, "Why aren't you taking a bath; you smell."

"I just had this conversation; I'll bathe when I want." He gestured to where you could faintly make out Eragon and the others, "Besides, I didn't want to run the risk of drowning."

"Uh-huh, well," a quick hand grabbed him by the front of the shirt, "if you don't mind. . ."

"H-hey!" Before he knew it, Murtagh's feet were sliding along the gravel shore, the sound of splashing water and the feeling of utter cold surrounding his body. Under the water he could barely make out Elaina laughing, indignant bubbles floating to the surface of the water. Then an idea hit him; he waited for as long as he could, pretending to run out of air, lurking just under the water's surface. He saw her expression go from glee to worry, and soon she was wading in the water, her skirt pulled up to protect it from getting wet. He swam closer, completely hidden by the dark water.

"Murtagh?" She was growing scared now, "This isn't funny! Where are you?"

"Here!" She screamed as he jumped up, grabbed her waist, and threw her into the water. Murtagh stood, shaking from both laughter and cold as he saw the girl shoot up from the water, her teeth chattering. She shot a glare at him, and he shrugged, "Serves you right. I could've hit my head or something."

"Oh, you'll hit your head alright, just not on a rock!" She splashed towards him, jumping on his back. His laughing only infuriated her more and what was worse was that he leaned back, falling into the water once more, taking her with him. She shrieked once more, rose, then dunked his head under the water. Unfortunately, she didn't have the element of surprise anymore, and he grabbed her around the legs and lifted her body completely out of the water. A dangerous grin was on his face, "Don't you dare!"

He gave her an innocent look, "Dare what? This?" He started to toss her--

"No!" Elaina reached down, wrapping her arms around his neck; if she was going to go, he was coming with her. She felt his grip lessen, and soon felt herself slowly being lowered into the water. A chill ran up her back as the cold water hugged her legs, her arms still wrapped around Murtagh.

"You can let go now; I won't throw you anymore," she looked up to find him smiling, his eyes reflecting the moonlight that shone on the pool. He looked so funny with his hair sticking to his forehead, his clothes sagging off his body that Elaina couldn't help but laugh. He raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"You," she gasped for breath, "you look ridiculous!" She doubled over, hair dripping into the water.

"Oh yeah? You don't look like a bundle of roses either," he was grinning again, "and I'm not the one in a white shirt."

She stopped, her eyes wide and a shriek escaping her lips. She quickly turned her back to him, heat rising in her cheeks, "That's not funny, you pervert!"

He rolled his eyes, taking off his own shirt and wrapping it around her. The wind chilled his skin even more, but right now she needed it more than he did, "Come on, we need to get to a fire." She nodded slowly, taking his hand as they waded through the water toward the shore.

They sat around the fire, leaning against Thorn's body for extra warmth. Elaina's head rested peacefully on Murtagh shoulder, a content smile on his face as he stared up into the sky. The stars were beautiful in the cold autumn night, so clear that it was almost like a million little diamonds were scattered on a piece of black velvet. They sat in silence, all three just enjoying the sound of the crackling fire, the threat of falling asleep almost to tempting to avoid. Thorn was the one to break the silence, _We should head back; the other's will get worried._

_Very well,_ Murtagh lightly tapped Elaina's shoulder, which was still covered by his shirt. Her eyes fluttered open; apparently she'd already dozed off, "We should head back; I think we're dry enough."

"Alright," she yawned, allowing him to help her to her feet. She frowned as she noticed he was still bare-chested, "Don't you want your shirt back? Aren't you cold?"

"I'm fine, with or without it," then a thought about what Lian would (and knew he would) say popped into his mind, "um, yeah. If you don't need it anymore."

She smiled, "I'm dry; here," she handed it out to him. As he turned, moonlight fell across his back, and the horrible scar that lined the muscle from his right shoulder to his left hip. Images of her vision flashed before her eyes, and she could hear Selena's voice saying over and over, _You will be the one to save him. _She nodded, a determined look in her eye, _Yes, I will. And soon._

"Ready to go?" Without answering, Thorn leapt into the air, soaring high above then and almost knocking them over with the windblast. Murtagh cursed, shouting after him, "Be more careful!" He only roared in response.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Luckily Eragon and the others had already built a fire before they returned, making it easier for Murtagh to find his way back. Elaina walked beside him, strangely quiet, a distant look on her face. He frowned, about to ask her the problem, until he heard an unfamiliar voice near the others. Elaina heard it too, and her head followed his as they grew closer to the fire light. Subconsciously, they began to walk faster, until the silhouettes of two alien people were visible with their backs turned to them. He tried to contact Thorn, but there was too much mixed emotion surrounding the dragon's thoughts for him to break through.

When they were only a few feet away, the unfamiliar bodies began to take shape, and sitting around the fire next to Arya was a woman with brown curls; Angela. To her left was a small boy Murtagh didn't recognize, his head darting back and forth between the woman and Saphira. Katrina stood next to Garrow, her eyes warily watching Angela as Roran stirred whatever it was that was boiling over the flame. Arya and Lian sat together, both wearing a slightly worried face as Eragon stared into the distance.

Soon they could hear their voices, and it was Angela's who was speaking, a light note of urgency in her words, ". . . and they demand that you return immediately."

"Don't they understand how dangerous that would be? What would happen if they were attacked, or Murtagh lost control again?" He shook his head, "This is not wise. The dwarves could wait until I at least delivered them to Islanzadi and the others."

Murtagh, followed closely by Elaina, walked into the glow of the firelight, "What's going on?"

"The dwarves demand that your brother here get back to Farthen Dur as quickly as possible," Lian snapped, "apparently to fix some silly stone."

Saphira blew smoke from her mouth, _I did promise them, once they reassembled the sapphire._

He laughed harshly, "Bah! There's more to it then that! They can't stand the thought of him helping out Murtagh, and they know he'll be vulnerable once Eragon leaves."

"Sapphire? Oh!" The image of that great room where they'd found Saphira, Arya, and Eragon's crumpled body replayed in Murtagh's mind. All around the room were tiny shards of red stone, remnants of a once beautiful piece of art that the dwarves prided themselves in creating. The great Sapphire Rose had been a huge lose during the battle under the Beors, and even he had felt a slight remorse for its loss. Elaina gave him a puzzled look, "Isidar Mithrim; a great stone that was shaped from red sapphire to look like a blooming rose. Arya had shattered it in order to save Eragon from the Shade."

"That's what happened?!" She exclaimed, a look of utter disappointment on her face, "The tales around Furnost were that you single-handedly thwarted the Shade with barely a scratch on you!" She laughed, "Wow, so propaganda even exists among the Varden."

"Ahem," coughed Angela, a slight annoyed look on her face, "I'll ignore the fact that you two have just completely forgotten about me and Solembum here continue, shall I? Now, where was I? Oh yes! I'm sorry to break it to you, Eragon the Rash, but because _you_ are the one who promised, _and_ said that you would be adopted into their clan, you _have _to go back whether you like it or not." She tilted her head towards Murtagh, "Besides, I think he's big enough to take care of himself. And it's not like he's going alone; Arya, Roran, and Lian will be coming with him too. Not to mention Garrow," she smiled as the young dragon perked up at the mention of his name.

"Still, I have a very bad feeling about this," he rested his head in his hands, sighing, "how long would we be gone?"

She lifted a finger to her lip, "Well, since it would just be the three of us, I'd say however long it takes Saphira to fly to Farthen Dur, fix Isidar herself," she frowned, "of course the dwarves will want you to stay for a while; to demonstrate their hospitality. And then I guess however long it takes you to fly back." Solembum rested his raven hair against her shoulder, "All-in-all, I'd say about a month and a half."

"What?! That's far too long!" Eragon cried, standing up, "Doesn't Orik understand that not only am I escorting Murtagh, but that I still have training to do with Oromis? I can't waste a month eating food and drinking rum!"

She only shrugged, "Do what you want, but don't be getting mad at Orik; you did promise."

He sank to the ground, grumbling. Murtagh bit his lip in an attempt to hold back a smile, "It won't take that long; on horseback we made it to the Varden in less than four weeks, so it can't take that much longer if you ride Saphira. And if it makes you feel any better, my magic has pretty much stopped working, so the worst I could do is go crazy with a blade. I could let Arya or someone guard them for me, if that'll ease some of your worry." A strange feeling took over him as he said those last words.

Eragon looked at him, a mixture of sympathy and frustration on his face, "No, that wouldn't do. What would happen if Salavand appeared again, or if Thorn lost his mind with you?"

"Whatever happened to the optimistic Eragon I always knew? Before I go crazy I'll knock myself out, alright?" He looked grudgingly into the forest beyond, "Besides, I'm sure once the 'bad guy' enters that enchanted forest, I'd hardly be able to do much damage anyway." Murtagh was surprised at the venom in his own voice.

"You say that as if you know you're going to do something." Eragon snapped, his lip twitched irritably.

"Who knows, knowing my luck. Of course everyone expects the _evil_ Rider to do something destructive or go on a killing spree, aren't I right? It's not like I have to hold your hand to become a prisoner. Again."

Eragon stood again, his face livid, "We have no choice! Unless you want to go back to being Galbatorix's lapdog!"

"At least then I wouldn't be treated like a leper!" He sneered, glaring at his brother with an unknown hatred, "Of course, if I showed up with the great and mighty Eragon, everything would be different, right? I'm sure you'd just love to march me right to the elves, displaying your prize to all your little fairy friends. Well sorry, but I refuse to be paraded around like some trophy."

"Where is this coming from? All I've wanted to do was help you, and now here you are acting like a child!" The others around them tried to yell something, but they ignored them, moving closer to each other with every word, "Fine, if you want to go back to you beloved king so badly, then go! Apparently you've given up any hope of being saved!"

"Saved? Saved! You're the one whose idea of me being _saved _was to stab me through the heart!" He shoved the younger boy, "And now you wish to put me in some cage, while you go around the world and play hero as I hide in the shadows like some woman!" He went to shove him again, but Eragon grabbed his wrist.

"I'd stop if I were you."

"Really, well," he twisted out of his grasp, punching Eragon in the jaw, "I'm not you, so I don't think I will." He heard Elaina cry as Eragon pounced on him, knocking him to the ground. They rolled, kicked, punched, and jabbed at each other, both still surprisingly matched in speed and strength. Murtagh cursed as Eragon landed a punch on his mouth, the lip splitting open. He kicked at his stomach, successfully flinging the younger boy to the left, knocking the wind out of him. Murtagh caught his own breath, dabbing the spot on his mouth, when Eragon rose and began to charge again.

Murtagh met him full force, there hands locked in an equal balance of strength. The two brothers glared at each other, teeth bared like fighting dogs, when Eragon kicked Murtagh's foot out from under him. As he fell, he dragged Eragon with him, both hitting the ground hard. Ignoring the pain in the back of his head, Murtagh rolled over, struggling to break free of Eragon's grasp, punching the boy once in the face and again in the stomach. Eragon coughed, and was about to attack again, when cold water splashed down on top of them.

Both stared up in shock as Elaina, holding an empty bucket, had angry tears in her eyes, "Stop it!" She glared down at them, throwing the bucket to the ground, "What does this help, huh?! I would hope that the fate of Alagaesia were in the hands of more mature people than two buffoons that would fight each other at the drop of a hat!" They wouldn't meet her eyes as she continued on, "So what if you have to split up; who cares! You're both grown men, you're both capable of taking care of yourself, so get over it! The truth is you're both worried that one or the other is going to get into trouble, and you won't be there to bail each other out." She pointed a finger at Eragon, "Murtagh will be fine with us, you don't need to worry about that. And you!" She turned to Murtagh, who was panting wildly, "Eragon is perfectly capable of avoiding Galbatorix's men; he'll make it to the Beors and back before you even know it. Now I suggest you two stop fighting like children and start acting like adults!" She glared at them once more, then stomped off towards the lake, Katrina and Arya following close behind.

For the longest time the camp was silent, both men sitting on the ground pouting and facing away from each other. Roran and Lian kept a watchful eye on them, ready to pounce should they start to fight again. Solembum, long bored with the fight, had fallen back to sleep (and to Murtagh's surprise turned into a giant yellow cat), resting on Angela's lap. Thorn and Saphira had locked gazes, and finally broke with Thorn saying, _You both need to apologize._

_I have nothing to apologize for!_

_Saphira said Eragon said the same thing, but since he's being to much of a baby, maybe you should go first._ Thorn growled before he could protest, _I suggest you hurry, least Eragon _and_ Elaina be mad at you._

Murtagh closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. There were a million, not so nice words he wanted to say right now, but for the best he turned and said, "I'm sorry."

It took another minute or two for Eragon to reply, "As am I. Look, I never intended to 'parade' you around anywhere; I was just doing what I thought was best."

"I know," he sighed, "I'm just tired of having my fate in the hand of others." An awkward silence fell between them, and Murtagh coughed, "Well, before more brotherly bonding takes place, I suggest I go and talk to Elaina, while you two make your plans for tomorrow."

Eragon smiled, sighing, "Right." He watched as his older brother started walking towards the lake, Arya eyeing him warily. Before he was out of earshot, Eragon yelled, "Murtagh!" He turned, "Do you really think I'm a hero?"

"Shut up!" Murtagh laughed, rushing towards Elaina, who gave him a glance that made even Thorn's blood grow cold.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

They awoke early, far before the sun had risen. In the cold, predawn light Murtagh helped his brother pack up everything he would need for the trip, growing apprehension nipping at his stomach. He hated this; them splitting up, the fact that he _knew_ enemies were so close, the fact that he would be flying so close to Uru'baen. So many things could go wrong, and the only thing he could do was wait and pray. He smiled despite himself, _So this is what people mean when they say 'big brother syndrome'?_

Soon everyone was awake, Saphira had been saddled and ready to go, as everyone awaited to say farewell. Murtagh laughed as he watched his dragon shyly approach the blue one, his eyes looking like a sad puppy. He soon had to put a block on their link when Saphira gently placed her head under Thorn's, humming a sweet goodbye. Murtagh could've sworn the dragon's scales turned three shades redder.

Angela was in high spirits, as always, with Solembum prancing around her heels. Her brown curls bounced as she spun on her heel, clapping her hand, "Well, no time to loose! Farewell everyone; have a safe journey," she stopped and winked at Lian, "I will miss you most of all, my sweet half-breed."

"Oh, my fair witch! Taunt not the strings of my heart as you leave me once more!" They shared a laugh, then his face grew slightly serious, "Be careful, old friend."

"You should be the one who's careful," she said, a dangerous glint in her eye, "it's not wise to call a witch 'old'."

Everyone laughed for a while, when Roran walked up to his cousin, "Make sure you hurry, and try not to do anything stupid." He patted him on the back, "I want you to be here when my child arrives."

"If I had to crawl on all fours I'd make it in time," he said, grasping his cousin's hand.

Katrina kissed him lightly on the cheek, "Stay safe, and watch over Saphira," she glanced to where Garrow was saying goodbye to the closest thing he had to a mother, "more than one dragon will miss her, terribly." He nodded, smiling as the couple went to say farewell to Saphira.

Elaina was next, her face extremely more gentle than it was the night before. She frowned, a sad smile on her face, "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own? The Beor's are a long way away."

"I'm not alone; believe it or not, Angela's quite capable of handling herself." He grinned, "Take care of him for me, will you? You're the only one he seems to listen to anyway." They laughed for a moment, then he caught his breath, "Take care, Elaina. You have a strange and powerful gift, but it is also very dangerous. Don't use it until you understand what it is."

"I'll do as I want, _Shadeslayer._" She laughed once more, then said, "I'll see you soon." He nodded, watching her go as she joined Katrina and the others.

"Don't take this the wrong way; I want it back when you return," something hard slammed into his hands, and Eragon looked down to find Zar'roc's hilt resting in his palms. Murtagh didn't meet his eyes, "Look, you're practically worthless on the ground without something to back up that monstrous strength, and I can just as easily defend myself with a human blade as an elven one, so take it."

"But . . ."

"Look, I'm trying to make you a little less helpless, okay? Just take it and shut up," he looked at his face, a worried smile across his lips, "and come back, so I can finish kicking your ass."

He smiled, "I'll be back soon, brother. The next time you won't be so lucky." Murtagh walked off, laughing. Eragon smiled as he watched him go.

Next came Arya, and he could feel his cheeks turning red. Lian was walking behind her, that mischievous glint that was ever present in his eye alight as he inched closer to her. Suddenly, when they were close enough, he shoved his sister into Eragon, running away, waving, "I'll talk to you later, Eragon! Have a safe trip!" He was laughing wildly as he joined Murtagh's side, receiving an annoyed glare.

They struggled awkwardly to separate, neither one knowing which hand to unravel at what time. Eragon was overcome by emotions, both good and bad, as the elf struggled to break free. Suddenly, and the last thing Eragon expected, was that Arya began to laugh. The beautiful sound made his heart flutter, and he soon found himself laughing along with her. Then something even stranger happened, and he felt skinny arms wrap themselves around his waist, the smell of crushed pine-needles intoxicating him. There was a long pause, then she said in a strangely quiet voice, "Hurry back, and don't over do it. If you can, take the same route as we did when I took you to Ellesméra; it should be safer."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. For a long time they didn't, and he just enjoyed feeling her warmth next to his body. He smiled, a small glimmer of hope shining in his heart, and a strange sense of bravery took over him. He pulled away, for the first time seeing Arya with her shield down, "I'll be back soon, I promise. Besides," he laughed, "I have a need to break another one of Vanir's wrists."

She shook her head, stared at him with those midnight green eyes, then turned and walked towards Saphira, giving her a goodbye. Of course, once she was done, she proceeded to smack her brother in the back of the head, the slap echoing across the lake.

The sun was coming up when Eragon straddles Saphira, Angela sitting behind him with Solembum on her shoulder. He nodded, everyone backing away as the dragon leaped into the air, Angela's curls dancing on the wind. Pretty soon they were nothing but a tiny blue dot, easily mistaken for a bird flying below the clouds. Murtagh watched, feeling uneasily light without Zar'roc's weight at his side. He cursed quietly, _Have I really gotten so accustom to that blasted thing?_

_It was a fine weapon, save the fact that it's killed countless dragons, and maimed you, _Thorn chirped, turning to face the forest of Du Weldenvarden. Then he glanced at Garrow, who was watching with sad eyes as Saphira flew out of sight. He nudged him lightly, _I'll race you to the other side of this lake._

_What?_ He watched as Thorn bolted into the water, _Hey! No fair! Wait for me!_

The others laughed as they watched the two dragons plunge forth into the water, racing closer and closer to the forest that awaited them. Murtagh sighed, turning to everyone, "Well, let's get a move on."

"Can't you say something more devanair? Like, 'move out!' or something?" Lian crossed his arms, "You're not very good leader material."

"Alright, fine," he grinned, waving him foreword, "you lead, if you're so qualified."

Without missing a beat, Lian marched forward, grabbing Elaina and Katrina by the hand, "Move out! All beautiful ladies who are not my sister are to be stationed at my side at all times!" He began to run as Murtagh and Roran chased after him, the ladies laughing as he cried for help.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**I think you all very gratefully for your response to my poll. It made me happy to know that you guys cared enough to take part in it (someone even said it was fun! A cookie to you my dear friend!) Anyway, I've tallied up the votes so far, and here were the results:**

Murtagh (of course) was the leader with nine votes.

Thorn came in second with three.

**Lian came in third, with a total of two votes, followed by Elaina, Eragon, and Arya with one (my dad voted for Arya...) Thank you for voting, and now, a response from our winner?**

**Murtagh: You're insane, you know that--**

**Me: Just say something nice, for crying out loud!**

**Murtagh: Fine; thank you for voting for me. I love the fact that Eragon is somewhere crying in a corner right now.**

**Thorn: Only three? Oh well, at least I got votes. **

**Lian: Oh, I'm so sexy! I got more votes than ERAGON! YES! I RULE! I love you ladies!**

**Me: Okay, moving on! I hope you guys enjoyed this random bit of insanity, and once again thank you for voting.**

**Murtagh: You didn't vote.**

**Me: I don't need to, I'm the author.**

**Murtagh: ...**

**Me: Stop glaring! Fine, I vote for Galbatorix! HAHA! Stick that in your pipe and smoke it!**

**Murtagh: You make me cry.**

**(once again, sorry.)**


	32. Osyris

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Thirty-two: Osyris**

**Reviewers: HURRAY REVIEWER! (I hug you all!) Lol, anyway, sorry it's taken me so long to finish this chapter; I've been busy. And, well, I hate this chapter. A POX ON IT I SAY! Well, anyway, it's needed for further development, so I hope you enjoy it at least. Well, read and review and have fun!**

**Blah: Oh, and sorry it takes me a little longer to update sometimes, but death threats will not provoke me to update faster! Lol!!**

Three days. It had been three days since her reassignment to this dull and uneventful hellhole known as Yazuac, and the whole time Osyris cursed her superior. How dare he send her to such a small town, remote destination with such a low class assignment; she deserved much more than this. Now she was told to meet that nasty buffoon Salavand and join forces; the conversation hadn't been pleasant. She tossed her raven hair with an annoyed flick of her head, wooing two soldiers that went past, as she remembered her direct orders.

**Three Days Ago**

Osyris rocked back and forth on satin slippers of the finest make, the silver catching the majestic dim glow of the lanterns surrounding her. She waited anxiously for her liege lord to appear, more to gloat about her success than to hear about her new mission. She prided herself in the finding of souls and enslavement of the living; next to her, none were better, save that ridiculous Shade. She smiled pleasantly, "But he's dead now."

The doors banged open, dust from the rafters falling upon her head. Galbatorix stormed in, his face dark with rage as a scribe beside him fed him a poisonous report. Osyris watched, well aware of what would happen should she interrupt. The young man (a new scribe, since the old one was put to death on accounts of treason) was in the middle of saying something along the lines of, ". . .they escaped, but I am still tracing them into the forest. . .," when the king turned on him and slapped the parchment from his hand, "Does this interest me?! Does it?! Get out you fool! Come back when you have good tidings instead of worthless babble." The old man heaved like an angered bear, his teeth bare as he sucked in breath after breath.

Osyris swallowed, then announced herself as calmly as she could, "My lord, I have news for you. I've located Morzan's--"

"Unless you have that worthless whelp of a son of his behind your pretty little back, then I have no need for a _spirit_, witch." His eyes were cold, the fury from the past weeks still burning brightly behind the aged gray color. He sneered at her, disgusted by the look of indigence in her face, "Would you like to say something?"

Catching herself quickly, she merely shook her head, "N-no, my lord. I am sorry; it has just taken me so long to find his soul, that I thought it would please you to know I am prepared and ready to bring him back."

Galbatorix laughed, a hard bark of a sound, "Yes, my dear, it is good news; yet irrelevant at this moment. Do you know what my so-called general did this week?" She gave him a vacant expression, "I shall inform you then; he let Murtagh slip right out of his hands. _He let him go_! That prideful bastard is going to get a noose if he doesn't start to follow my orders _directly_."

"My lord, could you not invoke his true name?"

"You've seen how well that works," he said, a slight amusement in his voice, "no. That spell cost to much for even one as powerful as I, and Salavand will do most anything at the cost of a coin, not spells." Galbatorix sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "Now, is that all you wanted to report to me? If so, then I shall take my leave--"

"Your Highness!" Suddenly a soldier, clad in black armor, rushed into the room, his breath heavy as he leaned over. As best he could, the man stood at attention, saluted, and shouted, "News from General Salavand, sir! Shall I inform you and your guest, sir?"

"Yes, yes!" He snapped, shooting him an annoyed glare.

The man quaked, "V-very well. He reports that, two days ago, the group that escorts Murtagh to the elves has disbanded. The younger Rider has left in the opposite direction; heading towards what we think is Gil'lead."

"Really? Well now, isn't that interesting. And what would cause our young friend to race directly towards us?" A gleeful smile crossed his lips as Galbatorix dismissed the soldier. Clapping his hands together, he smiled at Osyris, who had a cold pit forming in her stomach, "Well then, I guess we should be off."

"Off, my lord?"

"Why, we can't have our guest arrive unwelcome, can we? I dare say I'd be a rather poor host if the boy should arrive without suitable escort, eh?" He stopped for a second, and his face regained a more serious manner, "Actually, I think I shall be the one to go to Gil'lead. I want you to report to Yazuac, or whatever is left of it; I'll send word to Salavand to meet you there."

"What?! My lord, you must be joking!" Her pale face was flushed red, her teeth clenched, "I am more worthy of an assignment with you than with a lowly dog such as Salavand."

A powerful force pushed her to the ground, and Galbatorix loomed over her like a haunting shadow, "I would watch your tongue, girl. I am in a good mood; do not be the one to take that away. As for my orders, they are absolute. If you have any complaints, keep them to yourself least your tongue be cut from that spiteful mouth of yours." He pushed the spell harder on her back, causing her to whimper, "Now, what are you going to do?"

She grimaced, forcing her rage and embarrassment down into her stomach, "Whatever my lord wishes, Your Highness."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a trip to plan. I will send word to you as to what I want you to do when the time comes." With that, he stalked out of the room, a light tune carrying through the halls as he whistled.

**Present Day**

There had yet to be any word from either the king or Salavand, and Osyris began to grow bored and impatient as she sat near the edge of the Ninora River. Millions of voices surrounded the violent edge of the stream, all a lament cry of the tragedy that had befallen them. She reveled in it; the sensation of power coursing through her veins. It would be so easy to use each and every one of those voices to make her power grow, to be able to manipulate them into the living. A sadistic smile parted her ruby lips as a soldier walked by--

"Lost in thought, are we?" Startled, Osyris looked up into the smug expression of Salavand, his straw hat placed lopsided on his head. He smelled of the woods and sweat, both things that she loathed. He grinned, crossing his arms, "Well, well, looks like I've got a new partner."

"We are not _partners,_ you pathetic cur. The only reason why I'm here is because His Grace demands it." She eyed him condescendingly, "Unlike you, my loyalty comes from want of praise, not coin."

"Yes, well, while you long for a man that's older than the hills themselves," he took off his hat, shaking scraggily hair, "I've been busy getting our orders. Galbatorix wants us to go into Du Weldenvarden and chase after the others; said he'd take care of the dragon whelp himself."

"I'll ignore your incompetence once and say this; that's impossible. That forest has yet to be conquered by anyone save the elves, and there are so many magical barriers surrounding it that if we so much as step foot into it, we'll burst into flames."

"That can't be too safe for the forest," he laughed as she drew back a hand, "hold on now, listen to my idea. I say we lure them out before they get too deep into the forest."

She raised an eyebrow, "And how do you propose we do that?"

He gave her a look as if she were a small child, "Why, my sweet girl, we'll use those lovely Lethrblaka that are sitting right outside of the town. The Ra'zac were nice enough to allow me usage on my way here, so I'm sure there will be no problem with them carrying us to the woods."

"Are you insane? There's no way I'm even going to _touch_ one of those foul beasts." She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought of their rancid smell.

Salavand shrugged, "Well, unless you want to be hanging between a deck, I suggest you get over it. In the mean time, start packing because I'm leaving tomorrow morning; I don't want to go any deeper into Du Weldenvarden then I have to." He started to walk away before she could say anything else, nodding at a few soldiers who passed by him.

"Of all the ridiculous--!" She grunted, crossing her arms and kicking the surface of the water. If being in this stink hole wasn't enough, now she would have to go searching around in some gods forsaken forest with a man that smelled like a wet dog who'd just rolled around in mud. Osyris sighed, looking down into the stream beneath her feet. A small white face stared back at her with dead eyes, and she smiled, "Well, at least I can tell you about my frustrations." The face smiled back at her, and she began to talk to the spirit until night fell.

**Meanwhile. . .**

Leaves fell all about their feet as Murtagh and the others advanced closer to the endless pine forest, a slightly somber mood in the air. It seemed quieter without Eragon and Saphira around. Thorn had grown silent, his eyes holding a small longing as they walked closer and closer to the elven stronghold. Of course, Murtagh couldn't really console his friend, for he was busy trying to remember the ridiculous rituals that the elves performed in order to avoid conflict. It had something to do with curling your arm in a funny way and chanting some nonsense in the Ancient Language. _Anything to make you feel superior, _he thought grudgingly, trying to remember the order in which who would speak first.

Lian hadn't excelled in the remembrance of the words, and he still seemed to be confused as to who should actually start the conversation. He frowned as he looked down at his salute, "Okay, so I curl my hand like this, and then--?"

Arya sighed, rubbing her temples, "Then if it is someone of higher rank, you speak first. When you meet mother, you will be the first to speak."

"Oh, and then I say, ah, that other thing because it's a formal meeting, right?"

"Yes."

"But what if--?"

"Oh come on, Lian! It isn't that difficult!" Her shoulders sagged, "Okay, let's take a break; we can do this again in a little while."

Murtagh laughed as Lian continued to try and twist his arm, glad to have something to take his mind off of Eragon. A sinking feeling kept growing in his stomach, and he'd learned that his gut was normally right. Horrible dreams haunted him at night, and many a time he'd woken in a cold sweat during the beginning hours of the day, unable to fall back to sleep. Thorn dismissed it as being paranoid, but sometimes being paranoid was a good thing.

Distant giggles caught his ear as he looked to find Elaina and Katrina practicing the funny salutation. He froze as she glanced over and smiled at him, putting her two fingers to her mouth. He rolled his eyes and started to walk towards Thorn, who was resting under the shade of the pine trees. Brown needles crunched under his feet as he grew closer to the red beast, his mind elsewhere. Murtagh leaned against his friend, taking in the scent of the trees, _Are you ready for this?_

_Are you?_ Thorn glanced back at the campsite, Arya now instructing Roran on the proper words, _I'm glad I don't have to take part in this nonsense._

_Yes, lucky you._ Murtagh stretched his neck, feeling a slight pop below his head, _I'm not going to do it; why should I? It's not like they're going to show me the same respect._

_Always the antagonist,_ he laughed, wrapping his tail around his Rider's legs, _it may make your stay more pleasant._

_What's this? _You're_ telling _me_ to be nice? When did this happen?_ He nudged the dragon playfully, _Did you hit your head or something?_ A strong sense of longing flooded their link, followed by intense worry. Murtagh sighed, _They'll be fine--_

_How can you be so sure? I mean, you've told me yourself how much of a klutz Eragon is, and knowing Saphira, she'll jump right in and risk her own life for his! What if they get caught? Or if a bad storm hits, or--_

_You just have to hope for the best and wait, _he leaned his head back, staring into the fading sky. He sighed, covering his eyes with his hand,_ Eragon is capable of taking care of himself._

Thorn puffed smoke, _You sound so sure of yourself._ The tip of his tail flicked angrily, and he quickly stood, causing Murtagh to fall over, _I'm going to go hunting; where's Garrow?_

Dusting off the dirt from his shirt, he grumbled, "With Roran; where else?" He covered his face as pine needles shot up from the ground, Thorn leaping into the air. With a curse he walked back to camp, finding his cousin in just about the same state.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Needless to say, everyone was exhausted; more mentally than physically. Katrina stirred whatever they had to cook into a make-shift stew as the others sat back and relaxed, all to tired to really say much. She pulled back a lock of copper hair, humming quietly as the water in her pot bubbled and boiled. Roran sat up from his resting place, scratching the back of his head, "I wonder what it'll be like; learning magic and such."

"It's frustrating at first," Murtagh said, picking at a small rock, "but once you get the hang of it, it should come easily enough." An amused laugh escaped him as the memories of his training flooded into his mind. Surprisingly, Galbatorix had been a decent teacher. If he wasn't insane, he might've actually enjoyed learning under him. Strange feelings began to course through him, and he quickly put the thoughts away, "You have to be careful, though. Don't go past your limit and all that."

"How will I know my limit?" He picked at his beard mindlessly, watching his wife.

Murtagh shrugged, "That's for you to figure out. Though, if I were you, I'd stop before you felt like you were going to die." Something small bounced off his head, and he scowled over at Lian.

The half-elf was wearing a grin, "You're so full of sunshine, aren't you?" He dodged as the rock was returned to him, "Anyway, how much longer 'til dinner?"

"You're full of patience, aren't you?" Katrina giggled as she let the pot simmer, "Only a few more minutes. Elaina, can you get the bowls for me?"

She nodded, gathering her skirts and heading towards their supplies. Elaina smiled as she saw the disarray that the site was in; their clothing was scattered about the place, and the bedding was in every which way direction. It would've looked like just any ordinary campsite, had they not harbored sword sheaths and quivers. The dragon saddle was a bit distracting too. She scanned the grounds once more until she saw the bag with all the plates and bowls Katrina had suggested on bringing.

By the time she came back, the stew was ready, and everyone was sitting around the pot. She smiled, passing around each stone bowl as she came to them, "Sorry about the wait." She frowned, looking to Murtagh, "Are Thorn and Garrow coming back soon?"

He shrugged, "I don't know; he's blocked me out for some reason. Have you had any luck?"

Roran laughed, "They're on their way. Thorn's probably tired of hearing Garrow gloating so much." Murtagh raised an eyebrow, "He didn't catch as much as him."

"Oh," he looked down at his bowl for a while, then placed it on the ground, "I'm not that hungry; I'm going to go to sleep."

"Are you alright?" Elaina asked, placing her own food aside.

Murtagh stood, waving a hand behind him, "I'm fine; just tired. I'll see you all in the morning." He left before anyone could say more. True, he was genuinely tired, but that was less of the problem then what was really on his mind. The thought kept itching in the back of his mind, and finally he decided he would try and scry Eragon, just to see if he was alright. The problem with that was his magical situation, and whether or not he had the strength to summon the spell. He ran his fingers through his hair, finding his canteen and pouring a little on the ground, "And that damned hammer necklace could complicate things too."

_Scry Saphira,_ a loud whoosh tossed his hair about, and Murtagh looked up to see Thorn hovering above him. Garrow flew beside him, trying as best he could to keep up in the air, but was still a little to young to manage that maneuver. Thorn gave the young dragon a tired look, _Go back to the others, before you kill yourself._

_But I want to see Saphira too!_ He snipped at Thorn's tail, receiving an annoyed roar from the older dragon, _Fine! You're so grouchy today._ They watched as the young dragon flew towards the firelight, his green scales sparkling in the glow.

As Thorn landed, Murtagh hesitated, looking down at his tiny puddle. Thorn instantly picked up on a small trace of fear and nudged him lightly on the shoulder, _If you need my help, you only need to ask._

_It's,_ he sighed, _it's not that. I just--_

_You're afraid that if you scry him, you'll see something that you don't want to, or nothing at all. Don't worry so much; there's always a loophole somewhere._

Despite himself he smiled, _No, not everything. Anyway, I guess we should try it?_ He cracked his knuckles (for no particular reason but to settle his nerves) and looked back at his reflection in the puddle. Reaching for that spot inside his mind, Murtagh prodded at that tiny source of magic, struggling to keep hold of it. The strain on his body was surprising and slightly frightening, but he kept his mind on the blue dragon and spoke the words, "Draumr kopa!" Instantly he felt a huge drain on his strength, Thorn jumping in to support him as best he could. Nothing was showing in the water, and that strange feeling of interference assaulted his mind as it did the time he tried to scry his brother in Uru'baen. He cursed, panting, _It must protect anything around him as well--!_

A sudden jerk, and Thorn was launched out of his mind, like a scab being ripped off. All at once the strain from the spell overtook his body, and he collapsed on the ground, his heart beating like a dying bird's. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his body shaking in uncontrollable spasms. The taste of bile was on his tongue, and soon he was only aware of a horrible ringing in his ear, blocking out any other sense. Murtagh screamed as pain shot through his back, coursing through the rest of his body in ripples of agony. . .

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

A scream tore through the night, followed by a deep roar. Elaina bolted, dropping her bowl and heading towards the campsite, Lian and Roran close behind. _Why didn't I follow him? _She cursed, kicking herself for not going with Murtagh. He'd been acting strange the entire day, his face paler than normal. Thorn came into view, and she picked up speed, pulling ahead of Lian and the others.

She found him writhing on the ground, sweat soaking his hair and sticking to his head. His mouth was open in a weak attempt to gain air, his chest pumping up and down frantically. Thorn's head hovered over Murtagh, concern and anger reflecting in his eyes. Elaina walked closer, leaning down and grasping Murtagh's hand; it was cold. She reached up and swept away some of his hair, gently rubbing his forehead, "It's okay," she whispered, "I'm here."

Elaina was unaware of the footsteps beside her as Roran and Lian caught up with her, Arya and Katrina close behind. Lian cursed, kneeling down on Murtagh's other side, "He's having another attack."

_Really? Are you just now noticing this?_ Thorn snapped, his eyes never leaving his Rider. A low growl emitted from the beast, _I should've never let him try to scry them. That damned necklace wouldn't have let him see them anyway._ He looked at Elaina and tapped her lightly, _Don't you try anything; it's enough to have him rolling around on the ground then to have you both unconscious for a week._

She frowned, squeezing his hand tighter. Anger boiled inside her, more for herself than anything else. If she was so powerful, then why couldn't she help the man that she loved right at that moment? She didn't care about her misunderstanding; even if it took her life, Elaina would do anything to save him. She restrained herself, however, and just continued to whisper into his ear, "Murtagh, can you hear me? We're all around you; your friends. It's alright," she stroked his forehead, a tear running down her face, "it's alright."

Arya frowned, "I'll set up a bed for him. Make sure he doesn't move around to much, he could hurt himself more." As she walked away, she turned, smiling sadly at Elaina, "Once we get to Ellesméra, he should have less frequent attacks." Elaina nodded, not taking her eyes off of Murtagh as she left.

It was long into the night by the time Murtagh had settled. Elaina was still awake, Roran drifting between consciousnesses beside her. She felt Murtagh's grip lessen, and for a heart-stopping moment Elaina had thought he'd passed on, until he moaned once and coughed. As his eyes fluttered open, Elaina threw her arms around his neck, crying softly, "You're awake! Oh, thank the gods, you're not dead."

He managed a shaky smile and croaked, "I'm sorry to worry you," he saw Roran, who was now fully awake, "all of you."

"What happened to make you have an attack like that?" He waved his hand, "You were fine before you left to go to sleep."

With Elaina's help, Murtagh sat up weakly, "I reached my limit with magic, I guess you could say." He sighed, staring up into the sky, "That, or Galbatorix is closer. But I seriously doubt that, since he would rather send out every last woman and child in Uru'baen to do his work instead of actually going himself." He looked to Elaina then, his smile returning, "I heard you."

She blushed wildly, looking away, "Oh, um, I'm sorry. It's just Eragon told me not to use my powers until I--"

She froze as Murtagh kissed her forehead, "Thank you."

Elaina smiled, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, "No problem."

"Well, all this lovey-dovey stuff is making me miss my own wife, so," he grinned as Murtagh glared, "if you'll excuse me. Goodnight you two."

They waved him off as he walked to his tent, leaving them alone in the dark. Murtagh laid back down on his bedroll, closing his eyes. He felt Elaina lay down beside him, resting her head on his chest. Her warmth made him forget all the pain that he'd endured earlier, and for a moment he wished that they could just lay there forever, not having to worry about anything else. He smiled contently, looking up into the starry night sky. Elaina broke the silence, her voice shaking his chest, "Were you able to see Eragon?"

He shook his head, "No, he wears some trinket that makes it impossible for you to see him." He sighed, "At least, I hope that's the reason."

"He'll be fine. If he's anything like you, he's too stubborn to be captured."

"Yeah," he answered, rubbing her head lightly as she fell asleep. In the back of his mind, a nasty little voice said, _But you did get captured, remember?_ Grumbling, he quickly covered both himself and Elaina in his blanket, drifting off into a fitful sleep.


	33. Flight to the Mountains

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Thirty-three: Flight to the Mountains**

**Reviewers: Thank you for reading my last chapter, and I hope I can continue to entertain as I go on (did I spell that right?). Anyway, I really like this chapter, even though there's no Murtagh in it, and I hope you do too! Please read and review, but most of all enjoy!**

Eragon awoke sore and stiff, grumbling as he removed a stone from his back. It was the crack of dawn, frost encrusting the blades of yellow grass that belonged to the plains, making the grasslands look like a sparkling sea of diamonds. They air was cold with the coming winter, they sky free of any clouds as the sun rose before him, casting the world in an array of oranges and reds. He smiled contently, soaking up the pre-morning bliss.

The plains had been a hard place for him to land; there were too many memories sown into their fields. He looked down and picked up a small pebble from the ground, running a finger across its smooth surface. Smiling sadly, he said the words, "stenr reisa." The pebble rose to the air instantly, hovering level with his nose. What seemed like an eternity ago, Eragon could see himself struggling to even move the rock, let alone make it float. Brom's instructions echoed in his ears, and the stone fell back onto his hand and rolled back to the ground.

The small sound was enough to awaken Solembum from atop Saphira's back. The werecat's ears pricked up, and the feline stretched the entire length of his body, his claws extended. He stared lazily at Eragon, licking his fangs, _Good morning._

_Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you,_ apologized Eragon, who was now dusting the dirt from his bedroll. He looked behind his shoulder and smiled, _Did you sleep well?_

_So-so, and you?_

_Not really,_ he clutched the tiny necklace that rested around his neck. That night it had awoken him, if only briefly, but long enough to let him know someone was trying to watch him. The strange thing about it was that it was only there for a second, not even long enough for the spell to actually show an image of himself. His wounded pride over came his concern as he thought of who it might've been trying to scry him. _It was probably Murtagh or Arya. They treat me like a child!_ He finished packing up his bedroll and other things in a silent fury, brooding as he waited for Angela and Saphira to awaken.

The sun was almost directly above them when Eragon woke Angela. The witch would've slept all afternoon had he not. With an annoyed glare she turned to her side, brown curls bouncing along with her, "Five more minutes."

"We need to get going now," he growled, "it's late enough as it is!" She ignored him, her blanket rising up and down along with the pattern of her relaxed breathing. Eragon eyed her flatly, paced for a few seconds, then grabbed the bottom half of her blanket, "We're leaving; now!" With a quick jerk he tore the cloth away from her, tucking it under his arm.

She groaned, pulling her legs up under her chin. Finding that there was no comfortable position, Angela glared at him between brown locks, "Fine, I'll get up. But I don't see why you're in such a hurry."

There were many reasons why he was in a hurry; they could be being followed by the Ra'zac, or half the Emperor's army, not to mention he wanted to get back to Ellesméra as quickly as possible. He said nothing, instead he rolled his eyes, "Just hurry up and pack while I find Saphira and Solembum." Once he was sure she was on her feet, he gave Angela back her blanket and started towards the small bend in the Ninor that they camped by.

Bare trees surrounded the gurgling river as Eragon walked between their stumps searching for his dragon. It didn't take him long, the smell of blood floated in the air, and her shimmering scales were easy to find around the water's edge. Finishing the last few bits of a deer, Saphira jerked her head up and snapped her neck, swallowing the haunch of meat whole. Solembum was gnawing on a small bone as Eragon approached. Saphira eyed him cheerily, _Good morning, little one._

_Good evening, you mean, _he commented dryly, his voice slightly agitated, _how can someone sleep this late? Especially out in the open like this?_

_Everyone is different. Some people raise with the sun, and some people sleep until the moon comes up. _Her attention fell to Solembum as he licked his jowls, _Just compare it to the difference between Solembum and I; he sleeps periodically through the day, were as I could stay awake for days without showing any signs of fatigue, as long as I eat._

Eragon smiled, touching her side and welcoming the warmth, _There are big differences between dragons, werecats, and humans. _He looked up between the bare branches that surrounded them, shielding his eyes from the sun. It had risen completely over their heads, but its warmth was obscured by the cold air. He sighed, rubbing his arms in an attempt to shake the chill, _Well, we'd better be getting back. Are you ready?_

Saphira licked her talons, stood, and shook to get rid of any fallen leaves that might have landed on her, _I am ready. Solembum? _In silent understanding, the cat grabbed the bone in his mouth, clawed at the ground for a moment, then leapt onto her back, curling up in the hovel between her wings. Eragon laughed as her amusement for the cat washed over him, and together they walked back to Angela, who started to scold them for being so late.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

They had been flying for what seemed like an hour when Angela pointed upward. The sky began to grow darker, and large black clouds threatened to block out the sun completely. Cursing, Eragon told Saphira to land, hoping to beat out the plain's merciless winds before they battered them to pieces. Saphira tucked in her wings and angled downward, racing to the ground at break neck speeds. Eragon was use to this kind of technique, but he was worried about Angela and Solembum. Craning his neck backward, he saw that the witch had the biggest smile on her face that he'd ever seen her wear, whooping as the dove faster and faster. The werecat, however, had his claws practically attached to the saddle, his eyes closed as his fur danced in the cool wind.

Saphira angled out, unfurling her wings with a great _swoompsh_ sound. She landed quickly, her legs shaking slightly with the force of impact. Tucking in her wings, she lowered herself to the ground to allow the others to slide off her back. Thunder boomed in the distance, and a faint flash flickered to Eragon's right. He cursed as he turned his head, raising the hood of his cloak just in time as a torrent of rain came crashing down around them. Angela shrieked as the cold water battered her cloak. "This is unacceptable!" She shouted over the thundering rain.

Eragon shrugged, "Sorry, but there's really nothing I can--" Then an idea struck him. How much strength could it take to shield them from the rain? He tossed the thought around in his mind until he asked Saphira, _What do you think?_

_I don't know; it's very risky. _She raised her head, watching the tall grass sway in the storm's wind. For a long time she said nothing, then she faced him again, _The wind isn't half as bad as the last time we were here. I could cover you two with my wing, that way you wouldn't be in the rain, and it would be warm enough to where you wouldn't have to start a fire._

Eragon laughed as he watched Solembum flick his paw after stepping onto the damp ground, _I think a fire is out of the question anyway. Are you sure? It could be dangerous._

_Just as dangerous as you trying to use magic._

_Good point._ The wind really wasn't blowing that hard, and the rain was starting to seep in through his cloak. Eragon sighed, _If you think it's safe, then alright. _He smiled sadly, _I just wish there was something I could do for you._

She stood for a moment, repositioning herself so she could stretch her wing more comfortably. _Put your cloak on my head. That should shield some of the water from my eyes._

"What's she doing?" Asked Angela, her voice still loud to be heard over the storm.

Eragon pointed, shouting back, "Get under her wing! It'll shield us from the rain tonight!"

"Will she be all right?" Saphira angled her head back and grunted, smoke coming from her nose. Angela shrugged, "Well, okay! But I don't know any potions or plants that'll cure a dragon cold!" With that she reached for Solembum and ducked her head under Saphira's wing, spreading out her own cloak for a make-shift dry spot.

_Are you sure you'll be alright? I'll stay outside with you if you want._ Eragon placed a hand on her snout, cold water running off of her scales and soaking his gloves. She only hovered her head above his and gently pulled his cloak off of his body.

_You'd better get under there before you get soaked; I'll be fine. _She winked a giant blue eye at him, _Though a little help would be appreciated. _Eragon laughed as he helped her place the cloak in a suitable position, even though the cloth was too small to cover her entire head.

Once she was protected, Eragon dashed under her wing, shivering from head-to-toe. His hair dripped cold water down his neck, causing chills to run up his spine, and he was grateful for the warmth of Saphira's belly. Angela sat beside him, trying her best to reach the saddle bags. After fumbling around for a few minutes, she managed to unfasten the pack with their food, digging around until she found a hard piece of cheese and stale bread. She eyed it in contempt, "Well, it's not a five course meal, but it'll have to do."

Eragon reached for the bread eagerly, his hunger overpowering the bland taste and hard texture. Looking up, he could see tiny raindrops falling onto Saphira's wing, like millions of tiny black ink dots falling onto parchment. The soft pitter-patter of the rain relaxed him, the soothing sound slowly lulling him off into one of his dream phases. The last thing he was conscious of was Solembum leaping onto his lap, purring softly. . .

_Two men were fighting in a fierce struggle for their lives. Caught in the vicious dance, their blades gleamed in the dim lantern light; one red and one blue. The man with the blue blade was on the defensive, sparks flying off of his sword as the man with the red attacked with the ferocity of a beast. A snarl was on his face, wild brown hair obscuring his eyes, yet something shimmered on his cheeks. The other man tired as hard as he could to deflect the blows, his blade before his face as the other man bombarded him with blow after blow. The man with the blue blade shouted something, and for a moment the wielder of the red blade backed away, his sword tilted to the ground._

_He looked up with sad eyes, mouthing inaudible words. Suddenly his face turned from sadness to cold fear, and a howl tore from his mouth. His eyes changed color, from a deep green to a sadistic black, and a horrid grin split his face. He straightened, the tip of the sword scraping against the ground as he charged at the blue blade wielder. Fatigued, the other man could only watch as his attacker came charging forth._

_A flash of light, a cry, and a soft _shunk_ noise echoed across the room. In between the two swordsmen stood a body, impaled upon the red blade. It was the body of a woman, her arms wrapped around the neck of her killer in a lover's embrace. . ._

Eragon awoke with a start, cold sweat soaking the collar of his shirt. The nightmare made him disoriented, and in the darkness he fumbled around inside a warm cocoon that he didn't recognize. It was only when a slight buzzing noise tickled his ear did he realize where he was. He took a deep breath and leaned back onto Saphira's belly, surprised to find himself shaking. His head was throbbing, and it took him a minute to realize he'd blocked out Saphira. Eragon lowered his mental wall, _Sorry, I was having a nightmare._

_Are you alright? You're trembling._ Her concern almost overpowered him, and he could faintly make out her eyes peeking into the small opening of her wing.

He looked at her and smiled as reassuringly as he could, _I'm fine, it's just. . ._ He paused, remembering how vivid and real his dream had seemed. A chill passed through him, and he could feel anxiety clawing at his stomach, making it feel as though someone were squeezing and turning it as hard as they could. _We need to get to the dwarves as soon as possible; something isn't right._

_What did you see, Eragon?_ He didn't answer, but the emotions that traveled through their link told her not to inquire further, _Very well. Good night, little one. Hopefully your dreams will be more pleasant._

_Yes, _he said distantly, _hopefully._ Eragon then turned to his side, slowly closing his eyes as the sound of the rain and Saphira's heartbeat soothed him back into his strange slumber.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The tingling of his palm awoke him the next morning. Something was wrong, a tension hung in the air that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Eragon opened his eyes, the sun shining through Saphira's wings. Angela rested next to him, curled up into a ball as Solembum quietly slept in his lap. As gently as he could, he lifted the sleeping werecat from its bed and crawled out from under his dragon's wing, searching the area with a careful eye.

The world was alive in the newly washed morning, despite the winter weather. The grass shown with tiny dew drops, sparkling in the morning sun, and a slight mist rose from the ground, like a warm blanket. The sky was clear, and here and there a small flock of birds would pass overhead, heading south to avoid the winter temperatures. A doe grazed off in the distance.

A twig snapped, and Saphira's eyes shot open. A low hiss came from her parted jaws, and she sniffed the air, _There are people, a whole lot of them, coming from the east._

_How much time do we have? _Eragon asked, quickly rousing Angela and Solembum.

_Not much, they're not but a few miles from our position; there's a strange scent to them._ She seemed to tremble, her eyes widening, _Eragon, we must leave, now!_

He didn't question her; this was the first time he'd ever sensed such a strong fear coming from her. What could it be that would shake her so? Ignoring his curiosity, Eragon quickly helped Angela fix the bags and saddle up. Once she was seated, he reached down for Solembum, but was surprised to see him in human form, "It'll be harder for Saphira to fly if you're that big."

He smiled a fanged smile, _I'm not coming with you, Shadeslayer. I have business elsewhere._

Eragon raised an eyebrow, "What--?"

"It's best not to ask him," Angela huffed, "one, because he won't tell you, and two, because we don't have any time!"

Eragon nodded, climbing onto Saphira's back. Once he had his legs strapped in, he said to the werecat, "Be careful in whatever you're doing." Solembum nodded, then sprinted away into the grass, the only sign that he was there were the tall blades parting like waves as he ran.

_Eragon, _at Saphira's urging, they took off, leaping high into the air before she fanned her wings out. Using the air currents, she headed southwest, beating her wings as fast as she could. At this height, Eragon finally saw what had scared Saphira so. Off in the distance, maybe not thirty miles, was a gigantic black mass that shimmered malevolently in the morning sun. Numerous tiny dots surrounded it, and from what he could tell horses were picketed around their tiny camp.

Fear gripped him, and for a moment he thought he would loose his composure. He took a deep breath, gripping the straps of Saphira's saddle fiercely, _We can still get away, no need to worry yet. _He felt Angela's grip around him grow tighter, and he yelled, "We're still pretty far ahead, and there's the troop he has to travel with!" He squinted, trying to find a suitable hiding place, but the only thing he could think of were the mountains. Their faint outline was visible in the distance. _They're far, but if we hurry, we can make it before they do. _Taping into Saphira's thoughts, he asked, _How fast do you think we can reach the Spine?_

_In less than a day, but if that's who I think it is, he'll be much faster than I. _She shook from slight turbulence, _I don't think Galbatorix is above leaving his troops behind to chase us down._

_Let's hope you're wrong for once. _Leaning in closer, Eragon held tightly to Saphira as she bolted forward, using the wind as an extra boost.

"Eragon! Look!" Angela shrieked, her eyes wide with fear.

Hair blew into his face as his head jerked around; his fingers fumbled clumsily to push the locks away. Once he could see, he cursed loudly and fear threatened to once again take over him. The gigantic mass was moving, becoming more angular than from its previous lump form. It took only seconds for the gigantic beast to level out to their height, and already Eragon noticed he was gaining on them. He turned in the saddle, _Saphira, fly!_

_I know!_ She pumped her wings frantically, froth developing at the corners of her mouth. No matter how much she struggled, the long wings of the ancient dragon would quickly overcome their new gained speed, growing closer and closer with each second.

Eragon looked back once more, this time able to see a man on the back of the beast. _How? _He thought, watching in amazement as the man came closer into view. Features were visible now; a clean shaven head, well trimmed mustache, and a black doublet of the finest make to match his dragon's scales. This was the man who took everything away from him, the man that he swore to defeat, the man that he would more than likely have to face in less than twenty minutes; this was Galbatorix. For some reason, he felt slightly disappointed. For the past two years, he had imagined the Emperor to look like a monster, yet here he was, no different from any other man, save for his pointed ears.

A shake, and he was woken from his daydream. Angela was shouting something, but the wind wouldn't allow it to be heard. Suddenly he heard a loud throbbing, and for a moment Eragon thought his eardrums had popped. But then he realized, out of shear terror, that it was the wing beats of Shruikan. _I'm going to have to fight him, _he thought, a wild excitement taking over him. Looking at one of Saphira's scales, he began to get lost in thought once more, _I need an advantage, but what?_

_Why not the element of surprise, like we did with the Urgals?_ Interrupted Saphira. She sent him an image of her flipping backwards, landing behind Shruikan. _It's worth a try._

_I don't like this, but I don't see any other choice. Let me tell Angela to hang on._ He turned, trying to communicate as best he could with the witch as to what was going to happen. For the longest time she didn't catch on, and only until he pointed to Saphira and drew a circle with his finger did she grip him tighter. Once he was sure she'd be safe, he said, _Alright, ready when you are!_

_Let's give him a fight he won't soon forget!_ With a fierce roar, Saphira bolted upward, curving at a magnificent angle. The ground and sky seemed to melt together as she looped back, the air whistling in his ears as Eragon fought to keep his mind clear. She suddenly leveled out, right behind the black dragon, and released a jet of flames at his tail, the fire clawing at his scales like hungry fingers.

Shruikan roared, but otherwise seemed unscathed. Eragon sat straighter, aiming for the king. Feeling the energy coursing through him, he barked, "Garjzla!" Lightening shot from his hand in a blue streak towards Galbatorix, a loud crackling noise following the light. It came in contact with an invisible shield, and Eragon could barely make out the king moving his lips, when the streaks parted and the king sat unharmed. Cursing, he tried another spell, reaching for his seemingly endless resources.

Then he felt something trying to worm into his mind. Quickly lifting up his defenses, Eragon began to recite a little tune that his aunt used to sing when she was in her garden. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to concentrate on the song, when a sudden blast erupted between his eyes. Eragon screamed, pain blazing through his forehead as a foul laughter echoed in his ears. A voice, deep and cruel, boomed into his head, _Did you really think you could block me, boy? Though, I guess I should give you some credit, _a mental image of Murtagh squirming on the ground, screaming jumped into his head, _you held up better than your brother did._

Fueled by a new rage, Eragon kicked Galbatorix from his mind, if only for a moment, but long enough to shout, "Brisingr!" Blue flame exploded before Shruikan, and the gigantic dragon was forced to stop. Saphira crashed into him, her claws scrapping across his black scales. They roared from both pain and surprise, twisting and turning in a fantastic knot of flesh. As Eragon battled to keep Galbatorix from his mind, Saphira did everything she could to try and distract the old king. She bit at him, scratched at him, but all the while being deflected by his stolen beast. Eragon gasped, _Saphira! Get above them!_

_What?!_

_Just do it,_ he said grimly, _I have an idea. _

Reading his thoughts, Saphira roared, _I'm not leaving you behind! Are you insane? He'll kill you!_ She dodged a bite to her neck, countering with a swipe of her tail to Shruikan's head.

Eragon fought as hard as he could to keep Galbatorix from discovering his plan, _No, he won't kill me. Torture me, most likely, but not kill me. Without me, there is no you._ He sat straighter, looking back at Angela. She was holding a small bottle in one hand, a foul smelling bag in the other. "What are you doing?!"

She smiled at him wickedly, "Helping!" Tossing aside the empty bottle, Angela closed her small bag and began to twirl it above her head. With a satisfying _whoosh_ she let it fly, landing directly on Galbatorix's leg. The king howled, clutching the burning flesh with his right hand. Eragon could feel his mind receding from his, and Angela smiled, "Don't look at me, keep fighting!"

_Saphira, please; you have to get away. Otherwise who will warn the others? _He could feel her rage, worry, and fear rolling around inside her head, and for a moment he thought she would not listen to him.

Then she began to climb, staying above the other dragon by a yard or two, _What happens if he does kill you? Little one. . ._

_I'll be fine. If not, you can bind me to your back like you suggested before._ He hugged her neck tightly, then unfastened his leg straps. Standing, he looked down to see where Galbatorix was, and where the spikes on Shruikan's body rested. Angela stared at him quizzically, and he leaned back, waving.

He didn't hear her shout after he fell, only the wind in his ear and the sound of Zar'roc being drawn. Galbatorix was to busy healing his leg to notice his rapid decent. Eragon flipped in the air, forcing his feet to go before him, and fell closer and closer to the black beast. He landed with a yelp, pain surging through his ankle as he came in contact with the dragon's right flank. Shruikan roared, his head shooting back to see what had hit him. Galbatorix followed, and for the first time there was nothing but utter shock on his face, quickly replaced by a dark amusement. He unstrapped his legs, standing on his saddle with perfect balance, "Do you really think you can defeat me on your own?!"

Eragon stood as steadily as he could, Zar'roc held at the ready, "Who said anything about fighting you?!" Galbatorix raised an eyebrow, and Eragon darted towards the back of he dragon, aiming for his tail. Realizing his plan, the king howled and began to form some word to stop him, but was to late. Zar'roc sank viciously into Shruikan's tail, dark blood streaming from the wound. The sword was still in the dragon's tail when Galbatorix's spell took hold of him, locking his arms to his side and causing his legs to buckle. He looked up and saw Saphira hesitating, _Go, now! Fly! Fly far from here! _With a mournful roar Saphira took off, flying off towards a cover of clouds, her scales reflecting the lightening of an oncoming storm.

His eyes quickly returned to the king, who's face was slightly vacant. His eyes quickly regained focus, however, and Eragon could feel Shruikan descend towards the ground. Eragon was about to say a spell that would release him of his hold, but Galbatorix shouted, "Letta!" Eragon groaned as his jaw snapped shut, making it impossible for speech.

From the lack of his tail, Shruikan was at the mercy of the wind, wobbling as he landed awkwardly in a clearing. Galbatorix still held Eragon in place, even as he leapt from his dragon's back and healed his tail. He wore a pleasant smile, his eyes stabbing into Eragon like daggers, "So, at last we meet. You don't look at all like your father; probably why it was so easy for you to go undetected." He reached under Eragon's chin, lifting his head slightly, "You must feel special, to know that your mother loved you enough to hide you and not your brother."

Without the use of his mouth all Eragon could do was glare venomously at him. He struggled against his invisible bounds, Galbatorix watching him with exhausted interest. He sighed, "Well, I must hand it to you; you know how to fight. However, soon you'll learn that it isn't necessary to fight against me, as your brother did," he smiled cruelly, "as everyone does." He began to walk away, his voice drifting on the wind, carrying one word. As soon as it reached his ears, a warm feeling engulfed Eragon's body, and he fell limp, asleep on the black dragon's back.


	34. Ominous Premonition

**Pale Hope**

**By Namine3419**

**Chapter Thirty-four: Ominous Premonition**

**Reviewers: Soooo sorry it's taken me so long to update; I haven't been in a mood to write. I also appoligize for the shortness of this chapter; I will try to write longer in the next one. Anyway, for those of you who have so graciously kept pacience with me, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Lol, please read and review.**

Surrounded in a smothering darkness, the group traveled through the endless pine tree forest, the sound of crunching pine needles below their feet. Murtagh grew anxious in the density of the trees, as if they were all a single unit, a living thing that wanted to devour him whole. The air was thick, stuffy in the closed space, making it hard to hear things in the closed space. Thorn and Garrow had to take flight twice, just to make room for their wings. Arya led the way, her movements confident and proud as she pointed to one direction, then another. It was as if some unspoken force was pulling her towards their destination, and Murtagh was glad for that; he didn't want to get lost in this monster of a forest.

He looked back at Elaina and smiled; she looked worse off than he did. Two days ago she'd gone quiet, a look of fear in her eyes. When he'd asked what was wrong, she just said, "Nothing, just a feeling," and walked off on her own. She'd been quiet ever since. He slowed, Roran and Katrina passing him, and walked to her pace, "Why won't you tell me what's troubling you?"

She snapped out of her daze, trying to hide a worried expression, "Nothing's troubling me; honestly." She tried to hide behind a smile, "I just don't like the forest is all."

"You didn't seem to mind it in the Spine," teased Murtagh, grinning. Then he noticed her hands were shaking, "You're scared."

"I am not!" She snapped, glaring. Then her face softened, "I'm sorry, it's just," she looked away from him, "two nights ago, I felt something. It was like an overwhelming fear, like the feeling I had when my brother left me, but stronger. Then all at once it faded, and I just have this sinking feeling that something is terribly wrong."

As if from nowhere, Lian appeared behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I don't want to scare you, but I've noticed that you do seem to have a connection with the dragons."

"Despite the fact that you were eavesdropping," Murtagh glared, "I'd like to know what you mean."

He smiled, "Nothing is learned that is worth learning unless you listen, and as I was saying, she has some strange link to the dragons. When we raced to Surda to find you, one night her chest exploded in pain. Her tattoo was glowing red, which I can say was quite a strange experience to watch, and then all of the sudden she was fine." His face grew serious, "I didn't think about it at the time, but when we reached you and Thorn in Surda, Eragon told me of what happened to your dragon. His chest was clawed open by Saphira the same night Elaina had her attack."

Murtagh stopped walking and crossed his arms, "She also sent Garrow's egg to me by some means. Normally, you need to know exactly what you're sending an object to before you can send it, and even then it might not arrive where you wish it to. But it appeared right in my hand, not to mention whatever she did surpassed every protection spell Galbatorix cast on the egg."

"But I'm not a Rider. Why is it that I can do all of these things?" She seemed lost in thought, her face hidden behind her hair. Then she looked up, smiling widely, "Well, I guess we'll find out once we reach the elves--"

"What's wrong?" Arya asked, her voice barely audible as the sound struggled to carry. Roran and Katrina stood next to her, worried expressions on their faces.

Lian smiled and waved, "Nothing! I was just asking Murtagh if he'd be so kind as to remind me of the proper way to greet someone." He stomped on Murtagh's foot, and he nodded in response, smiling awkwardly.

Arya sighed, "Well, try to do it while moving. I'm not trying to sound hateful, but there are creatures here that would pose a threat even to Thorn, so try to keep moving."

As the others continued, Murtagh hit Lian in the back of the head, "You could've nudged me or something, you didn't have to break my foot!"

"Where's the fun in that?" He asked innocently, rubbing his head. Lian quickly ran away before another blow could land on his head.

Elaina laughed, "You're really violent sometimes, you know that?"

"You're one to talk," he grinned, "I've got the bruises to prove it."

"I can be violent because it takes me a while to do any harm," she punched him lightly in the arm, "see? That didn't hurt at all."

"I could be bleeding internally, and you'd never know," he laughed and started to walk forward. Elaina hesitated, and he reached out a hand, "Don't worry so much; we'll find out everything--"

She shook her head, sadness in her eyes, "It's not that." Taking his hand in her own, the caught up with the rest of the group, quickly apologizing for falling behind.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Fan your wings out more and--wait, get higher! Garrow!_ Thorn swooped down beneath the younger dragon, pushing him upward before his stomach scraped the top of the pine trees. Glaring, he snapped, _What are you doing? That could've gotten you killed! Are you a dragon or not?_

_S-sorry,_ Garrow said, shame-faced, _I'm just still not used to this._

His eyes softened, _It's alright. Just try to _use_ the wind, not fight it. Keep your balance, and use your tail more. _He laughed, _And if you're falling, flap your wings once or twice, for crying out loud!_ Garrow did as he was told, tucking his hind legs up under himself further and wobbling on the breeze. Thorn couldn't believe how frustrating it was to teach someone how to fly! It had come natural to him, even as a hatchling. His earliest memories were of flying in and out of Murtagh's window, watching his Rider lean out of his balcony to make sure he was alright. Galbatorix had been furious when his scales left deep scratches in the old marble doorway; they scrapped along the side when he became too big to fit through it. For punishment, he had been chained to the ground for three days, even though the old king could repair the damage with only a word.

But Garrow was different; the dragon just didn't seem to want to fly. Of course, as a hatchling he didn't really have much time to practice. Roran would let him fly around the courtyard in the castle, but there wasn't enough space for the young dragon to actually soar freely, and because of it he seemed nervous of the open air. Then it stormed too much before they left on the ship for Saphira and he to instruct him properly and there was no time once they set sail. Thorn looked back at Garrow, feeling strangely protective, _Is this how Murtagh feels towards Eragon?_ He shook his head, then barked another instruction as the green dragon began to loose altitude once more.

Hours passed, and Thorn could feel the sun setting behind him. Garrow glided next to him, proud of the improvement he'd made in only a few hours. Thorn was happy for him, but the other dragon's constant showboating got boring and irritating after a while, and he anxiously waited for Murtagh to say, "We're making camp". The wind shifted, and Thorn stopped, hovering in the air. The smell of blood was in the air, coming from a few miles away. _I know this smell,_ he thought, worry quickening his pulse. He looked at Garrow, who seemed to pick the scent up as well, _I'm going to see what it is, stay with the others._

_I want to go too! You might need my help--_

Thorn growled, smoke billowing from his nose, _I need you to protect the others, a much more important task. I'm entrusting you with their lives, Garrow, do you understand?_

_Yes,_ he said solemnly. _Be careful, please?_

Thorn nodded, then took off, following the smell. He contacted Murtagh, slamming into his consciousness a little harder than necessary, _Sorry, but I thought I should tell you this._

_Tell me what? _

_I smell Saphira; I'm going to meet her. _He hesitated, an anger erupting in his chest, _She's hurt._

_Hurt? How do you know?_ Thorn's senses took over his own, _oh._ There was a brief pause, _I've told the others to wait, and Garrow's landing. Be careful, alright?_

_I will,_ he promised, then thrusted forward, closing their link. In a matter of seconds he was over the open plain, the savage winds tearing at him mercilessly. They pushed him back, an invisible wall that obscured his way to his goal. Frustrated, Thorn let out a jet of flame, as if to burn the wind alive. In response he was blasted by the air, the smell of blood mixing with rain. Off in the distance, dark thunderheads could be seen, along with a faint silhouette which cast a haunting shadow whenever lightening would crack.

With a growl, Thorn dived recklessly towards the ground, skimming along the surface. Blades of tall grass rubbed against his stomach and dirt flew up behind him as he glided barely above the plain, the rain clearly visible only a few miles away, and coming closer. He could see the shadow faltering, and soon the wings of the hidden beast began to slow, its head dropping. There was something dripping from its neck and torso. When he was close enough, Thorn reached out with his mind, _Saphira? _He waited for what seemed like hours, until weakly he felt her faint response.

_Thorn? Is--?_ She dropped in altitude at an alarming rate, and at that distance Thorn would never be able to catch her or break her fall. She plummeted for another heart stopping moment, until she frantically flapped her wings, regaining control, _I must land; I don't care about the storm anymore._

_I'll be there in a moment, _he watched as she glided slowly over the grass, turned her wings upward, and slowly landed on her hind legs. Rain was falling all around them now, flattening the grass and chilling his scales. Thorn paid no mind to it, his only concern was Saphira and Eragon. He landed quickly, recklessly folding his wings and dropping from the air. Running, he noticed something terribly wrong; there should be two human shapes on her back, not one. He was panting by the time he reached Saphira, shocked to find that it was only Angela asleep on her back. _Where's Eragon?_

She responded with a mournful roar, and had it not been raining, tears would have been visible on her face. There were numerous scratches and bite marks all along her body, and Thorn quaked as he recognized the markings. A giant gash bled at the point where her head met her neck, and her chest looked like it had been slashed to ribbons. As comforting as he could, Thorn said, _I know you're hurting, but we need to get those wounds healed._

_I'm going back for him! I shouldn't have left him in the first place; I'm a horrible dragon! Take Angela back to the others--I'll meet back with you after I rescue Eragon! _She snaked her head back and gently lifted Angela, laying her softly on the ground. Saphira slowly turned, crouching as if to take off.

_Saphira--!_

_Don't try to stop me, Thorn!_ She growled, baring her teeth, _I'm not afraid to leave by force._

He eyed her sympathetically, _Fine, go. But know this; you'll die before you even reach Gil'ead, much less Uru'baen. Eragon's life depends on whether or not you're alive, and with those wounds open and bleeding, you won't make it a day, which would pretty much eliminate any chances of us rescuing him, since Galbatorix would kill him too._ Thorn gently placed Angela in the small hovel between his shoulder blades, _Now come on; the others are waiting. You fly before me, and I'll carry the witch._

Saphira's eyes darted from him to what lay behind her, then she sighed, _Oh Thorn, how could I have left him to that monster? What use am I as a dragon if I couldn't even protect my Rider?_

Thorn nudged her with his nose, humming, _Don't worry, we'll get him back; together. But first, let's get back to the others. We'll think of something then. _She nodded, then leapt into the air. Thorn watched her warily, making sure she could handle the storm, then took off after her, Angela mumbling on his back.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Murtagh followed Arya to a small clearing where the dragons could land safely. The small opening was completely shadowed by towering pine trees, their feet crunching on the dry and dead needles. The air had an evil feel to it, and the hair on the back of his neck stood. Crows and other birds who had decided to stay for the winter watched them from their perches, golden eyes piercing into their bodies. He felt as though they all knew something that he did not.

The wind traveled through the many branches down to the two bodies standing in the clearing, gripping at their clothes and chilling them even further. Arya frowned, her eyes looking elsewhere, "There coming closer."

"How do you know?" Murtagh clutched to his cloak, trying his hardest to keep the cold from his body. Then he smelled it; a faint metallic odor drifted on the breeze. He'd been in to many battles to know that it was the choking stench of blood. Fear instantly bubbled in his chest, and images of the worst possibilities danced before his eyes. The only sign of his anxiety were his shaking hands. It took him a full five minutes to regain control of himself, and only then did he realize that someone was trying to contact his mind. The familiar sensation soothed his worries, and he lowered his mental wall, _Thorn? Thorn, is that you?_

_Yes it's me, you idiot! How long were you expecting on blocking me out?! _The dragon's rage laced his words, but slowly it came to a calm, _I have Saphira with me; she's hurt._

_Find me,_ he sent Thorn a mental image of where they were located, then asked, _and how's Eragon?_ There was no response, _Thorn?_

_I'll see you in a moment._ And that was the end of their conversation. Frustrated, Murtagh rammed everything he could against the dragon's defenses, vainly attempting to get all the information out of him at once. There were no weak points; the dragon's mind was as strongly fortified as his own. Cursing loudly, Murtagh stomped around the clearing, still trying his hardest to contact the beast.

Arya watched him curiously, "What's wrong?"

"If I knew, I'd tell you." He snapped, then sighed, "Saphira's hurt, and that's all I know. Nothing about Eragon, or that witch and her cat--"

"Look!"

Above them flew a gigantic silhouette unmistakable as a dragon. It carried its weight awkwardly, and huge amounts of blood dripped from multiple wounds. The beast came closer and closer, and soon Saphira's features were more visible. Murtagh sucked in a breath; Eragon was nowhere to be seen. _Maybe he's on Thorn's back_. But something told him that this was nowhere near the truth. As Saphira landed Thorn came into view, but Murtagh and Arya had already rushed to the blue dragon's side.

Multiple scratch and bite marks littered her glittering body, and she trembled with both sobs and pain. Rage and pity threatened to cloud his mind; he knew from the size and shape of the wounds where they had come from. He looked into her face, and deep, grieving blue eyes stared back at him, confirming his fears. Trying to occupy his mind, Murtagh began to reach for the magic that would heal her wounds, but then bitter realization hit him. Swallowing his pride, he turned to Arya, who's face had gone pale, "Will you heal her? I haven't," his voice faltered as Saphira groaned; one of her wounds had touched a branch.

Arya nodded, "Go to Thorn; I'll take care of this." A bright green glow instantly light the surrounding area, and her hands gently traced every wound on Saphira's body. Her eyes were unfocused, her thoughts elsewhere.

Murtagh left her to her work, racing to his own dragon. Thorn rested along the edge of the clearing, a small shape sitting on his back. For a small moment he hoped, but as the form sat up the unmistakable curves of a woman destroyed any chance that it could have been his brother. Angela looked down at him, her face appearing much more older than normal, her mouth gaping in a silent sob. He didn't want to hear what she had to say, right now, the only thing he wanted to do was run away. As he held out his hand to help lower her to the ground, Angela began to whisper, "He's gone. I can't believe he's gone." She was quiet for a while, the green light flickering from time to time. Suddenly she fell to her knees and wailed, "HE'S GONE!" Saphira accompanied her anguished cry, her roar echoing through the entire forest.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The firelight did nothing to help sooth their mood. A deep sadness and fear rested upon the camp, the night seeming to close in around them tighter than ever before. Angela sat next to Lian, his arm wrapped around her shoulder as he tried to get her to eat the meager soup they had prepared. Katrina had her hand tightly in Roran's, as if squeezing the callused fingers would help to ease his worry. Arya and Elaina were unsaddling the dragons while Murtagh paced the campsite, back and forth, until a small path was beaten into the dirt. He cursed suddenly, causing a few to jump, "It's all my fault."

"Murtagh--"

"If I had never agreed to this, to this stupid _journey,_ he'd still be free."

"Murtagh!"

"And now he's probably being tortured, or being forced to torture someone, or worse--!"

"Sit down!" A fist slammed against his cheek, and Murtagh looked up to see Roran standing there. His eyes were afire, "Blaming yourself accomplishes nothing. At least we know he's alive!"

"We have to go after him! Every second he spends with that madman is one second closer to his enslavement, and I won't have that happen to anyone else!" He began to march towards Thorn when two hands grasped him, one around the arm and another around the chest, "Unhand me!"

"What do you think you can achieve in your current state, huh?!" Lian's face was more fierce than he'd ever seen it, "Oh yes, you'll look valiant, marching back to a king who had complete and total power over you, trying to save your kid brother. But then what? You have no magic, no weapon, and you're in such a blind rage you'd be acting like a fool!"

"So what?" He lurched, trying to break free, "We do nothing?!"

Roran nodded, "In the sense you're referring too, yes. Think about it; if the king wanted Eragon dead, Saphira wouldn't be here right now." He felt Murtagh relax, and he released his arms. Stepping away, and saying in a gentler tone, Roran frowned, "He won't kill Eragon; Saphira's to important to his plan. Neither of us are even close to fit for a fight against Galbatorix, and we don't even have a plan of action. The best thing for us to do right now is to continue to the elves, explain our dilemma, and hopefully train quickly enough to save him."

"If it makes you feel any better, he was ready to go." Angela's head popped up, her eyes watery, "The idiot wouldn't have jumped from Saphira's back, waving like an ignorant fool had he not."

"Thanks," Murtagh mocked, "that makes me feel loads better." He sighed deeply, and a pair of small hands rested on his shoulder. He covered them with his own, the skin icy cold, "Roran is right; I can do nothing now."

Elaina smiled sadly, "Eragon is stronger than you think; he'll be fine. For now, the best thing is to do as Roran suggests--"

"And kick Galby's ass afterward!" Lian whooped, smiling menacingly. When no one laughed, he looked to his feet, playing with a lock of his hair, "Sorry, I just wanted to make you guys laugh--"

"'Galby'? Are you serious?" Arya laughed, "You do know you're referring to the most powerful man in all of Alagaesia."

"Not my fault he's a prick."

"Okay, that's enough." Murtagh said, smiling, "I'm going to sleep." Everyone nodded in agreement, turning over and rustlings their sleeping mats from their bags. As he lay there, he noticed Elaina was trembling. He leaned in closer, whispering, "Don't worry; everything will be fine."

She smiled a small smile, gripping his hand, "I know."


End file.
